


Storytime

by Hokova



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arthurian myth, Comedy, Fantasy, Gen, Horror, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Psychological Drama, Small cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokova/pseuds/Hokova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if you had twelve (near) strangers in a castle overnight, with no explanation as to how they got there and how to get away save for vague hints that suggested a story will take place?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mystery

_"When I see a story, I ask: is this something I'd like to be in? Is this something I'd like to see? And if I'd like to see it, would I like to tell it?"_  Clint Eastwood  
  
_"The core of all life is a limitless chest of tales."_  From a Nightwish song  
  
_"When we read a story, we inhabit it. The covers of the book are like a roof and four walls. What is to happen next will take place within the four walls of the story. And this is possible because the story's voice makes everything its own."_ John Berger  
………………………………………………………………………………………….  
  
It all started with a wish.  
People say 'be careful, what you wish for' but then the same people also fail to understand the true meaning of the words.  
Maybe if it never was spoken aloud in the library, it wouldn't have happened at all and all events would stay wistful thinking.  
The assemble in the room had almost nothing in common except for a city, rain outside and being shut in one room together, and apart from a sibling pair they could have forgotten each other's faces before even parting.  
Because of that, they were surprised that one of them spoke.  
"I wish this was a beginning of a story," came a chirp.  
Quizzical glances searched the room before falling and staying for various periods of time on a short, wide-eyed pale girl. When she continued, they seemed to pretend she's not really there.  
"I've read this somewhere… maybe in a detective story. Yes, that was it. It would be funny if we all got into one, wouldn't it?" she chuckled.

Someone scratched his nose, trying not to roll eyes, and another did. Nevertheless, they listened.  
Another thing uniting these people was, incidentally, also fiction. Not one liked the same ones, but the first sentence was a spark.  
They stared either into their own books or on the grouns, but they didn't see what was in front of them - each was imagining something. A redhead in a chair in the middle of the room scorned slightly, then smiled, looking around her on a person opposite - a young man trying to appear the smallest possible, and another one straightened, tapping the pages on his knee thoughtfully.  
"It would be!" sounded cheerfully from the wall from under a hat the librarian told him to remove twice already.  " 'cept we're all reading different genres. Dunno if that would work out."  
Silence ensued then, but it spoke loud and clear - they all were thinking of the possibilities, if it was a dismissive moment or long speculations.  
But when they, one by one, went home, not one of them imagined the circumstances under which they would meet next.

..............................................................................

 

The waking was with a scream - high, clear, and startling. One of the sleepers suddenly found himself landing on the ground, hard and cold, and definitely not like the carpet in his room… at that, with a cringe, he opened eyes.

_Of course this is not my room, because this is a castle._

A part of his mind found it perfectly clear and logical, that part also noted they are in a high and wide hall that echoed that scream ten times as loudly, but as the rest was waking up slowly, it started to panic.

What? WHAT? Where? Why? How?  _How_?  _HOW_?!

Propping up on his elbows, knees still too weak to support him, the first man stared on the others in a daze.

_One, two, three… There were twelve of them, and I remember that one, I saw her in the library, and that one too, and that's the guy who had the hat on there too… This must be a dream._

He rubbed his forehead, still sleepy, and decided to go along with that notion. He got on his feet shakily and went over to the hysterical female to put a hand on her mouth.

,,Stop.  _Screaming_. All of us are awake already and it is not  _helping anything_."

 

She stared up at him in shock, not blinking once and not moving a muscle until he put the hand down.

,, _Why are we here?!_ "

That triggered an explosion of other screams, curses, yelping and above all, questions and accusations of one another. It took all of them a grand total of fifteen minutes to find out that no, not one of them had been there before, and no, nobody is responsible for how they got there.

,,This looks like some kind of a practical joke to me," a short-haired, energetic girl sighed, rubbing her forehead. ,,They probably chose at random, and…"

,,AND?" someone looking like a relative exclaimed. ,,They randomly dumped us in a castle and left us here? Dressed? Without anything?"

,,This has got to be a dream," one of them in a corner murmured. ,,This is just… a dream… which might look like reality, but it's not…"

,,In that case, try to wake up," another stated dryly. ,,Try to change anything."

,,Or it's a secret project we are a part of," someone added. That seemed to catch everyone's interest. They stopped pacing, trying the three doors (which were locked), pinching themselves and staring out the windows on a utterly alien land, and shyly came to sit to a table with twelve chairs.  _Exactly, this was prepared in advance._

,,Does… anyone have a idea of what are we doing here?" he then piped up.

,,We have lots of ideas I'd bet on, but I doubt that it is going to lead anywhere," his neighbor replied immediately. ,,I suggest we try to look around here properly and find some clue as to what is this all about."

The course of action was agreed to and they scattered around the hall, looking under chairs, in the bookshelves (it looked like half a library was there…), the table and the window sills under colorful vitrages reaching almost to the roof, under smaller carpets and under the tapestries…

The search was broken by a small cry from one of the shelves. Almost at once, a few rushed to the one standing at it.

,,Is anyone's name here Peter Stokes?"

,,Mine," the one on her left acknowledged with awe.

,,Augusta Glossop?" ,,Right here!"

,,… Fabius Wright?" ,,That's me," the second to wake up nodded.

,,I think this is adressed to all of us." Even while she was saying that, everyone rushed to her side and then followed her to the table, each wanting to look at the envelope and read it even if it was over someone's shoulder.

The letter for the group was one of the fancy papers one buys for show, but does not use except for weddings and funerals.

,,Who's a good reader out loud?" the finder asked once sitting down. One of the boys lifted a hand. She nodded and handled it to him.

,, 'Dear children, I welcome you in castle Storytime.' "

,,Dear writer of the letter, fuck a greeting like this," one of the -seemingly - older men growled, earning snorts and laughter, especially from the ones at his sides. The reader was still grinning when he continued.

,, 'I think you are wondering right now about what are you doing here and how did you get here. Fear not! Everything is about to be explained.' "

The once cursing before grunted. A few of them leaned forward with interest, even holding breath.

,, 'As some of you may remember, you lot have been together in the library… the previous day…' " he furrowed brows in disbelief.

,,We have a stalker!" the only redhead blurted out.

,,In that case it was a very well informed stalker with a lot of financial support - and probably a plane, because there is no way we would have gotten here in three hours otherwise," one of the women, the one that suggested the search, said. They fell silent.

,,Three hours? How did you come to that conclusion?" her neighbor asked.

,,Quite easy. I know I went to bed at 3:37, because I looked at the watch. If you look at THAT clock," she pointed to one of the walls, at what everyone fixed eyes on it. ,,it's 6:41, and outside it's still dark. That means it had to be done extremely quickly, inconspiciously, and they had to drop us here and leave."

,,Which is the creepiest part, if you ask me," Fabius said.

,,Uh, it is. Also, on my own it is the same time and they're still ticking. And it COULD be done so that each was taken separately, but that still leaves a short amount of time."

Uneasiness creeped on the lot.

,,May I continue?" ,,Yes." ,,Sure." ,,Go ahead."

,,'…and one lady among you, Jeanne Weber, had a interesting notion;  _I wish this was a beginning of a story_. At that, every single one of you imagined and wished you had a role in a story, each different… it might have been a fleeting moment, but it was there nevertheless.' "

Looking on each other's faces, they discovered each was as pale ad their own.

,,'You…' " he had to clear his throat before continuing. , '…cannot turn back now, for now you know you had that one role in your blood all the time, no matter the circumstances. There is no turning back now from living them out.'  _Shit_." His voice trembled. ,,This is surreal."

,,This is nightmare fuel, if you ask ME."

,,Guys! Guys, this gets worse. 'It may be fair to warn you that not one of you is going to leave until the story ends. Don't fret, it will take merely a year-' " ,,A YEAR?"

,, _A whole fucking year?!_ " ,,Who does that person thinks he IS?! We can't stay here for the whole year!"

A heated discussion started at the table, each person adding their bit until the walls shook with the rumble - apart from the unhappy heap holding the letter and reading it silently by himself. He waited until they calmed down at least to a quiet hissing, then continued.

,,We can try to get out later, but I think you should hear the rest… just in case. Besides, the doors are locked, we have to pick the locks.

'A year, during which your only duties shall be carrying out the story and, foremostly, completing your twelve tasks. You will get one at the start of each month.' "

The girl at his side shuddered involuntarily.

,, 'However, there are some simple rules you must go by. They are these:

One: You will follow the story.' "

,,You don't say. Like we know the plot?"

'Two: Nobody will leave until allowed.' TO HELL WITH THAT! Uhm…

'Three: Nobody will know any role apart from their own except for one ocassion each month.' " Awkward glances were exchanged.

,, 'That said, I wish you a good time, dear characters. Keep it classy!' No signature."

,,To the doors."

Upon trying to open again, they discovered there was no need for picking. Well-cared for, they all opened easily.

The sun was halfway up, casting a gentle glow on a wide and - for a change - completely uncared for garden that seemed to stretch for miles.

,,Here's a idea; all of us will go to a different direction and see iof there is a door somewhere so we can go out of this hole," one suggested.

,,And what after?" came a snort. ,,We don't even know, where we are, nor where to go, and we don't have any food. In short, we are quite doomed to stay."

,,No, we can still find out, where we are, and act after…"

,,What GOOD will that be, if we can't get away?!"

,,Stop arguing, you three," Peter smacked his forehead. ,,Let's search the castle first. See if there are any maps or any other hints as to what is going on."

………..

Even after half a day they have found nothing that could help them. In the end they all stumbled back into the hall and half-sat, half-fell down, some out of boredom, some exhaustion, and some frustration.

,,We'll stay here trapped," a blonde rested her head on the table.

,,But what if we…"

,, _Look! Look at what I've found youhavetoseethis!!!_ "

The assemble lifted heads to the girl who had her hand lifted high, holding another letter.

In a moment they were all above it, looking over each other's shoulders and pushing to see. Finally, one of them snatched the piece of paper and stumbled a small distance away to read it.

,, 'By now, you should have found out that you will not get out of Storytime and its grounds. Don't worry, you will get visitors, but don't bother to leave; you are not able to yet.

There are maps in the library, but the castle is not on any of them. Why, you ask? It's not on the grounds depicted there either. Human feet are not able to carry you out of here.' "

A startled laugh came out of one and he nervously pushed glasses higher on his nose.

,, 'But to help you in your solitude, I suppose you should know about yourself and your companions (simple suggestion). Among you are twelve roles, and they are these: Hero, Lancer, Head, Challenger, Noble, Inventor, Heart, Nymph, Laugh, Villain, Dragon and finally, the Storyteller. It will be on you to find out, who is who. Good luck!' "

Someone groaned very loudly. ,,Bullshiiiit!"

,,Not really," Fabius scorned. ,,it is fair that since we are stuck together and should cooperate, we ough to know each other. At least a bit."

All of the other eleven were looking on him. Only after a while did he realize they waited for him to start, and he stood up clumsily.

,,Oh, um… my name is Fabius Wright, and I'm a amateur literary critic… I own a shop with Halloween decorations in the town. I've never participated in any reality show, this looks like it. Hi." He sat back down.

After a few other exchanged glances, the girl who suggested they find out information before acting stood up abruptly.

She was a mild-looking, slightly scared creature with spiky black hair and grey, restless eyes.

,,My name is Leyla Mathis… I study paleonthology." She scratched the back of her head. And I write a bit... I'm sixteen," she added.

After her, the redhead stood up formally, straightening her t-shirt in the process. This was a tall and sharp woman, not seeming to be afraid of anything. She inhaled, then looked around.

,,Even though I think I'm going to regret this; Amanda Swott. I'm in a archery club in school aaand… I mostly read dramas, if it helps. Next please."

Next stood the man that mostly cussed at the letters.

,,I'm Timothy Airehart, I teach martial arts, and I have no idea how do I fit into a story. I could go and look around the furthest parts of the garden later."

He bowed, then sat back down. ,,Also I think I'm one of the oldest here - twenty two. I know THIS guy," he pointed on another. ,,We met on a hiking trip once."

The named person stood after.

,,Yes, I know you too… My name is Alford Song."

It didn't look like someone to go hiking, and even less to compare to someone such as Timothy. Maybe the most striking feature were the startlingly green eyes and that he seemed to have a bad habit of pushing glasses up and down his nose.

,,And yes, I do like going out into the nature and stargazing at night. Suppose that sounds quite sentimental to you," he raised eyebrows when someone chuckled. ,,that's my work as well." He then calmly sat back down.

The girl who screamed in the start and then found the first letter sighed.

,,This reminds me of a 'Alcoholics Anonymous' meeting, but alright. My name is Rita Slater. I'm in a amateur cheerleading club, and play the violin. Nice meeting you, I guess." Rita had short, straight hair which she played with, and looked like the kind of female who for all the looks below her head didn't need to care for it. Next stood the one with the hat on in the library. He still had it on.

,,Hello! My name's Terence Slater, Rita's my older sister. No relation otherwise."

She rolled eyes.

,,My interests include all kinds of adventures… but really. Why so gloomy, people? I'm sure we'll get out of here one way or another."

Unlike anyone else, he had a wide grin while tapping the next victim's shoulder, who was Peter Stokes.

,,I suppose you remember my name…"

He looked like one of the nicer people to meet, but not one of those to remember. He pulled at his sleeves while quizzically looking around - his eyes were blue like the younger Slater's, but more fearful.

,,Stokes. Peter Stokes. I do a bit of everything… I- I don't really have much of a real hobby. Well maybe the painting… Oh, I'm twenty one for two months now."

,,Congratulations," the next young woman said, standing up.

,,I am Gabrielle Cochran, a botanic just out of school."

She wasn't a beauty even with the platinum blonde hair and wide, pale eyes, but something in the fragile posture was reminescent of a princess.

,,Truthfully… I can't think of much else to say… at least not at the moment."

It was the reader's turn now. He smoothed his hair back, sighing, before standing up. He was very tall.

,,I am tate, Tate Borden. I'm a sculptor, um… I try, at least. I mostly read mysteries, as some might have seen in the library. Thank you for listening to my reading earlier," he bowed graciously.

Their previous voice of reason, the woman that went to bed at half past three, then stood up, seeming used to speaking groups of people.

,,My name is Augusta Glossop, and, ah, my homework sometimes keeps me up longer than I intend it to, in case you were wondering. I study financial management, through I like to try my hand at other things too. I don't know, how we got here, I was merely guessing."

The woman's skin was darker than any of them, her hair pulled back in a long straight ponytail. Her eyes were hazel, just like Tate's, and though she wasn't particularly tall she still managed to tower over him.

Finally, the shortest of them, shaking, stood. Jeanne Weber looked like she might collapse.

,,I'm sorry," she blurted out. ,,I shouldn't have said it, I should  _never_  have said it, if I didn't, then… this is all my fault."

,,It's not your fault a psychopath locked us up here. Maybe he… she… would have taken us anyway. Sit again, Jeanne."

The girl, sobbing, smacked back on her chair. Small black curls, fell over her eyes and into them.

,,Tell us something," Tate prompted her.

,,Um… I'm in school… and I sometimes try pottery with my mom… and a lot of fortune-telling. I could try on you too." Laughter and chuckles ran through the hall, making her smile slightly.

,,And if this is the beginning of a story,  _real_  story, then… I want us to get along," she murmured.

,,Oh, we will," Peter hugged her shoulders. ,,at least it seems so. Right?"

'Yes', 'yeah' and a few neutral grunts followed.

,,And, uhm… I think you should know that in the dining halll, there is food. Honest-to-goodness eatable food."

,, _We have food?!_ "


	2. By the book

The third day Storytime was filled with lively hustle from early morning. Shouts were heard from time to time and throwing things and sometime cursing ensued.

As far as trashing the place went, they did an excellent job. Papers and furniture were all around, and so were any other movable objects, but it served no purpose besides half of them sitting down to something interesting and stopping to look around.

Fabius and Leyla, who sat in the middle of a room with him, were surrounded by pyramids of things and even more dust, looking around. It was not unlike being in the middle of an antique shop, except that there was no telling of where those things came from or what would their price be. However, it was clear it was a very wide range. Both mostly both kept silent and to themselves, occupied by the hoards, which was kept both comfortable.

"If the Keeper sees us now," he sighed, then cought. "he or she must be very amused."

Leyla hummed unhappily, picking up one of the older books and then putting it back down.

"But… maybe the others were more lucky," she shrugged. "Not getting stuck with looking through old copies of Hamlet, that is."

"I suppose.  _Someone_  had to get lucky."

A faint call came from outside. Fabius stood up, nearly knocking over a small statue (it may have been marble, but it was no telling what was it supposed to be), and stumbled to the (reasonably large, semi-circular, and unreasonably drafting) window and looked out, seeing a hand wave from another side of the castle.

"It seems Peter came over something," he whistled. "[Come on](http://sta.sh/writer/#), it's just opposite us!"

She followed him at a brisk pace to one of the bigger rooms on the fourth floor, where Peter already stood stomping his foot impatiently and waiting for them. It contained nothing but a seven meters high, four wide flat, rectangle object, covered with a sheet.

It took another ten minutes to get them all in the room, but most were unimpressed.

"What do you think this is good for?" Amanda rolled eyes.

"I don't know," he admitted in a somewhat guilty voice. "but I had a feeling this could be important."

While he was reaching for the sheet, Tate pulled on his sleeve shyly, then clasped hands.

"Can I do it…? Pleaseletmedoit."

Peter frowned, then his face lighted up in amused understanding and he nodded.

"Ooh, sure. Okay. You do it."

Tate grabbed at the sheet and pulled it off in a mighty, dramatic manner with the face of a child on Christmas. Showing the thing underneath had exactly the desired effect.

"What the…?" "MYGOD! That's art!"

"Wow." "Ah, I SEE what they did there!"

The revealed object was a painting, which in itself wasn't shocking save for its size. What was were the figures… and the empty faces on them.

Pictured was a meadow in all shades of green with the castle recognizable in the distance and a well in the middle. One of the figures, there was no telling if male or female, knelt by one side of the well, leaning on a sword. By him, another stood holding the reins of a horse.

On the other side, one stood proudly up, followed by another slightly hunched behind (strangely, that one seemed to have a scaly cloak). Apart from them, there were eight - by the forest a spinning one, one standing still on the other. One with a book, one with what seemed to be a potion, a jester, a knight, and one with a rose.

"There's eleven," Gabrielle counted them promtly.

"What is the meaning of this?" Rita shook head. Most were speechless.

"I think that's the roles," Fabius said, staring up unblinking. "for you."

They looked at him, then back up too with dumbfounded faces.

"This is a scary one, though," Jeanne piped up. "I really don't wanna see it again."

…………………….

 

"You know, people, we don't  _have_  to do this," Alford protested weakly when they agreed on the next course of action after lunch.

"Don't complain and carry!" Timothy spat back, going a step down the stairs carefully.

"Ouch! Man, could you stop pushing that corner into me! I can't feel my-"

"Terence, watch it!" Rita shouted up at him.

"-BACK," Terence growled at his sister.

"That's because you stuffed yourself with the chicken," Tate huffed, trying to adjust his corner to be more confortable. He didn't succeed and looked very frustrated.

"You ate the same amount!" "Well, I'm feeling fine!"

"Stop chatting and get that thing down the stairs!" Amanda called out, hands on hips, craning her neck to see them.

"Easier said than done! The thing is bigger than the hallw- OW!" This time, Alford cried out.

"Sorry, Alf." "Feelin' violent today Tim?" Terence looked over his shoulder.

"We two didn't agree on nicknames!" the named person yelled.

Fabius covered his forehead on the lowest floor, hearing their bickering.

It was true though that while deciding on moving the picture was easy, realisation was a lot more difficult due to most of the hallways being lower than four meters. It had to be carried in various ways, not all pleasant and even less elegant and most accompanied by groans.

But, finally, they got it through the doors in the dining hall when they were held wide open, and set it down near the fireplace. It was accompanied by a small victory dance of Leyla, then tired slamming of four men on chairs.

"It IS kinda creepy, now that I look at it again," Alford said, wiping his forehead.

"I know, right? The lack of faces," Peter nodded thoughtfully, looking at it. "also, added creepy factor -  _everything_  is realistic apart from the faces. Heads. Whichever…"

"I don't see the point of that," Amanda murmured, head propped up on elbow.

"Maybe 'Keeper' is being nice and got us a clue," Timothy snorted in amusement. "to figure it out sooner."

"That in fact sounds plausible, since he… she… doesn't seem to care how long this takes," Augusta nodded.

"Let's just call the her or she 'Kee'," Leyla suggested. After a couple of weirds stares, snorts and laughs Gabrielle showed her a thumb up.

"So what are your ideas?" Fabius asked leaning in closer over the piece. "I think this," he pointed on the kneeling one. "is the hero."

"And THIS the right-hand man or woman!" Timothy immediately pointed on the one with the horse.

"But there isn't anything such as the sidekick," Augusta frowned. "not on the list."

"There is, in fact," Tate shook head. "the 'lancer'. In the past, it was the term for a man-at-arms. Also… King Arthur's right-hand man was a lancer. Besides the term IS used for something like that even now. Could fit."

"I don't see anything closer to that," Terence shrugged, rubbing his shoulder. "probably right."

"Good. What's next?" Augusta pulled out one of the letters from heap at the table and unfolded it.

" 'Head'."

Rita burst into laughter, then tried to cover it again. Timothy elbowed her with a smirk. "Miss Slater, I suppose that means ' _voice of reason_ ', not what  _you_  imagined."

"I know, I knoooow. I'm sorry."

"It could be this one," Jeanne tapped the figure with a book. She had to get up on her toes to do it, but managed.

"Or this, up there in the corner," Gabrielle signed with a nod of the head. "that's standing still."

"That could be the villain," Terence suggested.

"I think this is the villain," Alford said slowly, touching the one opposite the hero slightly.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Gabrielle frowned.

"See the proud posture? It's a polar opposite of someone kneeling… and the black on the inside of his clothes. See that? Besides, it's a medieval setting - he wouldn't be pictured anywhere else besides as a equal."

Augusta crossed 'villain' out on a new list she wrote.

"Others?" "The clown is probably 'laugh'," Terence smacked it.

"It's a jester, not clown, but good point," Augusta nodded.

"What is this?" Amanda tapped the rose-holder.

"Eum… princess?" "That's you, Terence." "...Okay, let's leave that for later."

"This… is the dragon," Gabrielle once pinched the figure in a scaly cloak. "at least it seems so…"

"Seconded," Rita agreed promptly. " 'dragon' is a nickname for the second-in-command of the villain."

"This is the 'nymph'," Leyla suggested.

"Which one?" "The one that's dancing… or spinning… or what's it doing."

"The knight could be the 'noble'," Augusta added her bit, after which they fell quiet, some toying with their hair, some squirming, some only looking on.

"Good work for one day, what do you say?" Fabius looked around on them then.

"But… what now?" Peter asked.

"Now we wait and see," Augusta shrugged, left the letter and list on the table and went out of the room.

...................................................................

 

It took them two weeks and making a mess of the place even more to realize there really was no getting out of Storytime.

The better suited went and searched the whole garden wall, inch by inch, to find a door or window to get through, and then they brought a ladder. Then they tried pushing furniture to the wall and climb it to get through. In the end, ivy had to suffice.

Soon enough they discovered they needed at least one map to get through the dense forest that was behind it, and after finding none gave up.

"This place is like out of this world," Gabrielle groaned, head on her knees on a bench.

"Well… it WAS pointed out that 'human feet are not able to carry you out of here'," Timothy huffed, sitting next to her.

"I didn't think that was literal. So are we to fly away?"

"Yes. Have wings?" Fabius asked jokingly.

"A helicopter would suffice," the first male raised eyebrows.

"Don't tell me you can pilot it, on top of all!" Gabrielle laughed.

"Why, do I look like I couldn't?"

She shot him a sideway look, then shrugged. He looked offended, which made Fabius chuckle and he rather pulled them from the high stone barrier.

Being only three to endure walking through the growth all day, they formed a somewhat friendly, if odd group. Fabius, for lack of other things to do - and being curious - did most of the talking in the start, asking about random things, then their opinions on them, and even if they were stubbornly quiet at first, working together helped. Especially Timothy was a fountain of information that simply begged to be turned on. It seemed as though he didn't have people to speak to, and he even acknowledged that when asked.

"There guess why I have a sorta… small dictionary. Most of who I know don't like to talk - or listen. And eavesdropping is not really my thing," he scorned. "besides, it feels lonely, listening to other people's talks and not being able to join in…"

Gabrielle was a bit tougher to crack and kept mostly to herself, only speaking when something was asked of her or needed. She seemed to be unused to being questioned, but extremely pleased to hear it. Making her smile was a even harder feat and so far the most she did was a small twitch, barely noticeable. Smiles weren't something she was used to doing. It was like a underground wild river.

"Hey, is that Jeanne?" Timothy suddenly pointed up.

Sure enough, on the roof of the highest tower there stood a small figure, black curls noticeable even from a distance.

"What is she doing there?" Gabrielle's eyes bulged.

"I don't know, she… oh… she's getting back in through the window."

"For a while there, I thought…"

"For God's sake, what _was_ she doing there?!"

 

…………

 

"Unfortunately, all I saw was forest, forest all around, and a mountain," Jeanne shrugged apologetically when she got down from the tower. "All over with snow. And it was very cold there."

"A mountain?" Augusta straightened in her seat. "What did it look like?"

"Well… like a mountain. Nothing special about it."

The other woman dropped down again.

"That means we truly have no hope of getting away even if we managed to get through the garden wall. Speaking of which, did you guys find a way out?"

"Across the poison ivy, yes," Gabrielle nodded, smiling wryly. She was drying off by the fire. "but it doesn't help much. As you said, we still don't know, where we are."

Leyla smacked her head on the table and didn't lift it again.

"My parents must be worried sick," she mumbled.

"Ours too," Terence said in a uncharacteristically serious voice. "but I still think we could get out of here sooner than after a year."

"I'm starting to think we will have to stay," Tate shook head. "but… it's a bit silly, expecting someone to follow a story and not giving them the plot."

Fabius was scribbling down into the Storytime titled notebook, listening only half-heartedly, when he saw something on the blank page under his hand. He lifted it curiously. Then his eyes widened, he dropped the pen and stood up so abruptly he threw the chair over.

"What?" Timothy snapped at him.

"That… it… all by itself… look," he stuttered, pointing on it and still not believing his eyes. He wouldn't have gotten paler if he merged with the wall, which he leaned against, heart beating so fast he felt it would explode - but first it would jump out.

Was it really there?

Augusta turned the opened pages to herself, frowning, then shrieked and pushed it away.

So it was there. It was no illusion.

At that point everyone was over it, each looking and either screaming or, in some cases, gasping, or cursing. But each jumped from it as if it burned them, which they had a very good reason for - words kept appearing on the paper by themselves.

Steadily, but quickly, the writing they found on all of the letters seeped into empty space on the pages, greeting the one that leaned over it. The thing it said when Jeanne stepped closer to it was  _You were right in your assumptions_. She smacked it back on the table.

"I TOLD YOU!" she stomped her foot. "I TOLD you and you didn't believe me!"

"If it helps… I believe you now," Timothy put a hand on her shoulder shortly with a startled laugh.

The very first sentence on a new page popped up right after:  _That took you long enough_.

"I want to go out of here!" Rita squeaked.

"I don't," Terence whistled. "now it just got interesting!"

" _You're a madman!_ " Augusta shrieked on him, after which it appeared:  _Do not throw food on him, please_.

"Fine, no doubts now!" Gabrielle threw her hands up. "We're in a freakin' enchanted forest! And castle, of course. It explains everything."

"It explains NOTHING!" the older woman's shriek was directed at her now. "Know why? Because magic is not supposed to EXIST!"

Timothy pointed on the notebook, which now wrote  _I take that as a personal insult_.

"Explain it," he said.

" **I CAN'T explain it!**  And that's driving me MAD!!!"

Augusta dropped on one of the chairs, shaking uncontrollably. At that, Jeanne carefully came over to her and lifted her hands in hers.

The room fell silent.

"Calm down. And remember this one thing: everything is energy."

"Huh?" Augusta lifted head up to look at her, teary eyed. They were nearly on the same level with her sitting and Jeanne standing.

"Everything is energy," the girl repeated. "and there is nothing that can't change it's shape over time. There are still things science hasn't explained. What do you think? If someone could manipulate the energy in however way he wanted, wouldn't anything be possible?"

"I… I think… yes… it would," Augusta stared on her, blinking a few times.

"Well!" Jeanne stood straight again, letting go of her and clasping hands. "Keep that in mind, and you won't go mad!"

Fabius stared on her as well with very apparent awe. It was the longest speech they have heard from her up to that point, and mature beyond expectations.

And yet, didn't she talk like this all the time? Didn't she warn them? She was the same all along, but up to that point ignored or dismissed. She earned some respect in that moment.

"You're not as head in the clouds as you seemed," Rita blinked a few times, at which Jeanne smiled brightly. Gabrielle meanwhile pulled the notebook to herself, writing something down. Looking over her shoulder, it was:

'What is expected of each of the roles?'

Straight to the point, as she always did. A few were peeking as well, but only after everyone gathered above it did it appear:

_The hero is someone to aid and motivate you, the vitality._

_The lancer is their support and foil, a opposite for balance._

_The head is your 'voice of reason'._

_The challenger is someone to stir the mood when it's passive, and to help you through challenges._

_The heart is the emotional support of the group, the calming if it gets too wild and the love in hate._

_The nymph is your tie to your natures and a aid in magic._

_The laugh is what you once called 'comic relief', but not your clown._

_The noble is the one to guide you in the moral sense, should you get nasty under your station and mind._

_The analyzer is who comes up with new ideas, things perhaps, and has the proper insight._

_The villain is the one that moves you forward, yet is apart,_

_And finally, the dragon is he who is by the villain's side, and the one to keep you on guard and alert._

 

"And we wondered about THIS for so long?" Terence laughed, relieved. After Timothy took the pen, jaw tightly shut, and wrote (almost tearing the paper):  _Why didn't you tell_  


_sooner?_

The reply came almost immediately and produced a fit of good-natured laughter from the company:

  
_Because you neglected to question me, asshole_.

 

"Why do you think we were chosen?" Amanda asked during dinner.

"I dunno, try askin' Kee," Terence shrugged.

"I did. I got no reply though."

"Maybe Kee assumes we don't need another boast in ego," Rita snorted, crossing legs.

" _You_  certainly don't," Timothy smirked, earning a death glare.

"This all, it's amazing. I always wanted to star in a story," Leyla sighed. "But you know what I'll miss?"

"Do bless us with that knowledge," Gabrielle said mildly, not taking eyes off her food.

"Internet."

There was a collective wistful groan.

…………

 

Fabius was very surprised to find Augusta in front of the painting at six in the morning.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same thing," she said, half turning to him.

"Um… I already got up. What about you?"

"I didn't yet go to sleep." He whistled, leaning against the table next to her.

"And did you think of anything?"

"Yes… The one with the rose - Heart. Potion - Analyzer. In the corner, standing still - Challenger. Book - Head."

"Well, seems it really was good for something. But if I were you, I'd get me sleep…"

"Not in the mood. I'll sleep later during the day." Fabius found it strange she took sleep as something to be in the mood for, but said nothing to that.

"The notebook…"

"Yes, it was quite the shock for me." She spoke calmly and evenly now, probably having come to terms with it during the sleepless night. "It's... not what I was quite dreaming of all my life, you know."

"Do you want to, you know, talk about it?"

"No. I feel fine," Augusta shook head curtly. He looked on her out of the corner of his eye.

"If it scares you more, you know where my room is. I'll go  _out_  of there," he added quickly, seeing her look, after which she relaxed.

"That would be quite the adventure, seeing me scared," she grinned at that. "you don't want to see."

"I already did. You took it worse than I expected."

It fell out out of its own accord, he didn't even know why.

"You expected something, knowing me for only a while?"she laughed. "Dear boy, you need the sleep more than I do."


	3. Adventure

 

The biggest joy there ever was broke out when they found a key to a previously-unopened door, and if there was a place they thought was worth the trouble it was that one. There was not that much to do if one became restless and a wide space with shelves filled to the brink with books was something everyone welcomed.

"And to think we could have just asked for it!" Amanda laughed out loud, seeing the place. The middle of the room was wide enough so one wouldn't touch anything around them even if they spun, despite the narrow entrance.

"I'm still not used to Kee's communication don'tstandinthedoor!"

Fabius pushed past her and stumbled in, not knowing where to look first. Leyla practically squealed when she stepped in and looked over one of the shelves. "It's by genres!"

"Thank God," Timothy sighed loudly. Terence pushed him away from the shelf he stood at.

"Adventure," he said. "and now tell me, which one of you has read a adventure before?"

He looked around on their faces, seeing scratching on the back of their heads and clearing throats, plus stepping on place.

"Nice. Me neither. We'll have to try hard for this one, then," he chuckled.

……………………….

 

"Ten? That's the result of a hour of discussion?" Augusta smacked hands on the table. " _Use your brains_."

"Use your tact, woman," Tate elbowed her. "As far as I know, you didn't come up with much either."

"Well I have never read a adventure in my life!"

" _Neither have we!_  So how many tropes do you think we would remember?"

"You sure can take the fun out of anything," Amanda was flipping through the pages of a random book the pulled out, not even trying anymore. Almost nobody was. Fabius was still alert, but rubbing his forehead. He was getting dizzy from the heat in the room, suddenly a little cramped with all the people.

"I suggest we read… at least… one," Rita huffed, trying with all her might to reach one of the higher shelves. She then gave up, asking-

"Do we have a ladder?"

"One, not very safe either outside. We didn't try to climb it," Gabrielle shrugged, a pile of books by her elbow on one of the smaller, circle tables. There were several in it, but only a few chairs, which resulted in many having to sit on the ground or stand around. Jeanne perched on the windowsill. Rita one sighed.

"Can I sit on someone's shoulders to reach there?"

"I VOLUNTEER!" Timothy practically threw himself to her feet, feigning desperation.

"Riiight…" she looked at him, amused by the theatrics. "Hold me up and stand still."

"So, summing it up; we have no idea what to do now," Amanda rubbed her nose.

"According to Kee at the beginning of February we should have. It's the fourth and no answer."

"I'm pretty content with having free time," Peter scratched his head. "and psychical preparation."

"I agree fully!" Timothy nodded cheerfully, head inconspicuously leaned to be directly under Rita's skirt.

"Maybe we need to do... something first?" Jeanne suggested, looking mildly uncomfortable.

"Adventure-y," Leyla added. Rita stopped taking books for a moment and throwing them down or putting them back into the shelf and looked over her shoulder.

"I get a feeling you guys forgot to inform me of something."

"He's staring between your legs. What did you two have in mind, exactly?" Tate calmly jumped from one topic to another.

"You're a traitor!" Timothy spat while the girl on his shoulders struggled to get down very quickly. She still looked more entertained than anything glaring at him, though.

"The sole reason I'm not going to slap you now is that you helped me," she let put a puff of air.

"Gee, I'm honored."

Fabius yawned and leant back against the shelves, resting elbow on a book sticking out. The situation was getting tiresome as it was without teenage spats, and he was sleepy. It was then that the whole ten shelves moved, nearly causing him a heart attack. He jumped back right on time to see them slipping to the side with a lot of dust and a lot of creaking, revealing a dark opening in the stone wall and prompting Terence to jump away from his seat.

"Why Storyteller, you've done that thing!" Amanda whistled while he was staring on it open-mouthed.

"But- but I don't know what I did!" Fabius shook head helplessly. "I just… leaned there and it… it moved…" Meanwhile Augusta was already at the hole, carefully examining.

"Watch out for radioactive bugs," Peter said jokingly. "or poisonous gas."

"Anything else lethal you wish to inform me of?" she slowly turned head back to him.

"Um… hidden traps," Alford added.

"I'll tell you what, we won't go in there," Peter took a few steps back from it, laughing nervously. "we don't know what's there."

A small, thick book flied by them, nearly hitting her head, straight into it and fell a small distance before noisily hitting a wall in the back. The silence in the moment they waited was deafening.

"That's no way to treat books!" Leyla screamed. "You'll go to HELL for that!!!"

"You wanted to know, if it was safe," Timothy shrugged. "besides, hey, I made use of a Bible for the first time in my life!"

"Well… crude, but effective," Alford chuckled. "but I'm not going in there without a light. Anyone has a flashlight with them?"

……………………………..

 

The oil lamp had to stand in the room for years, if not decades at best. There was no telling it's age, but it seemed well cared for on the first look.

"Twenty that he won't light it," Leyla whispered to Terence when Timothy fumbled with the lamp and matches. He gritted teeth when he heard it.

"Accepted," he smirked. Fabius was right on reach to cut it when they shook hands. The last drop to the man's patience was Rita.

" 'Kay seriously, if you set THAT thing on fire I'm giving a free blowjob."

"Says the one that wanted to slap me earlier! Am I missing something?" he asked sharply, only glancing on her for a moment.

"You could cut it out with the dirty talk!" Tate snapped. Almost right after, a spark finally ignited what wasn't used in years.

"HA! What did I tell you?! I could do it!"

Terence waggled a finger in Leyla's direction, who sighed searching through her pockets. Rita's chin hung low at his smug expression.

 

The flame was small, but entirely enough for the corridor and stairs leading down.

"If something eats me," Augusta murmured in the very front. "you'll pay for my funeral."

"If it really eats you, we won't have to," Terence laughed from the middle. It wasn't visible well, but she rolled eyes. She then stopped.

"There's two paths. Where do you lot want to go?"

"Let's split," Leyla suggested immediately.

"Oh  **no we don't**. NO SPLITTING. Pick a way."

"But that way we would go through fast-"

"NO SPLITTING I SAID. We have enough time to see both. Or do you have somewhere to be soon?"

The corridor they choose - left - was the wider one, but nevertheless some had to lean down to get through. The walls were, surprisingly, dry to the touch, though full of spider webs.

A high pitched scream echoed through after a minute.

"Leyla, you're afraid of spiders?" Augusta glanced back quizzically.

"No… not me," came a chuckle. She gestured to her left, where Tate was frantically scrubbing at his sleeve.

"If I may suggest," Alford said still quite calmly. "when you're going through a ancient, pitch black dungeon that you discovered behind a library wall by complete accident, it would be a clever thing to be  _quiet_." Someone stumbled and cursed loudly right after.

"Nice one, Fabius. I didn't hear that before."

"Well, look at how you improve your dictionary among us," Gabrielle was pushing back giggles.

"I feel a fresh breeze," Augusta declared, looking to the side.

"Thank GOD!" Tate nearly cried.

The way abruptly ended in a hole (which probably didn't even remember once being door anymore), grown all over with ivy. Gabrielle pushed to the front and examined it for a moment, then started pushing it aside. With generous help from various other pairs of hands they were through in minutes.

On the other side there was a clearing, from three ways closed by a high wall such as the one around the garden. On one, there was a small, barely noticeable circle opening surrounded by stones seeming even older than the pond and wall themselves, whipped by rain and wind for centuries, under which a empty pond full of dirt gaped.

"Ah-hah!" Gabrielle reached into the pond, pulling out a paper from the bottom and dusting it off. The closest to her immediately leaned over her shoulder.

"Short and pretty clear so far… 'This month's task is for the hero: find and bring in the green beast from the garden.' "

"That sounds easy enough," Amanda said in surprise.

"Green?" Rita scorned.

"It could be a parrot," Timothy shrugged it off. "but then catching it would be a real bitch."

……………………..

 

Once again the dinner discussion turned into guessing the roles.

"Truthfully, I think the first assignment is quite silly," Gabrielle proclaimed. "at least, seeing it's for the hero."

"And who would you throw it to?" Leyla asked.

"I don't know… laugh?"

"Keep in mind none of us have done extraordinary feats," Augusta raised eyebrows. "I doubt anyone would manage anything harder. Even catching a animal can take a lot."

"Oh, yes it does," Fabius huffed. "but again: who will do it?"

"My guess is Timothy."

"Nah, I'm not the hero. I don't fit the description."

"Who does?" Augusta asked. "You do." "ME?" "Of course!"

"I don't think-" Gabrielle opened mouth.

"That does make sense. You seemed to be a leader from the very start," Amanda interrupted her mid-sentence, causing her to grit her teeth and wait.

"Yes, seems so to me too." "Guys, I never was a good leader, I merely suggest things…"

"Which could be a mark of it!"

"You're completely-" Gabrielle spoke up again.

She couldn't finish when they started yelling over each other over the option and she grunted, visibly annoyed by not getting a chance. Alford stood up and smacked the middle of the table.

"SHUT UP WHEN A LADY WANTS TO SPEAK!"

The nearest to him jumped in their seats, startled, the rest only looked over in surprise. She sighed, flashing him a grateful look when he sat back down.

"I think that it's Terence that's the hero." The named person eyed her oddly.

"Me? But why do you think?"

"Because Augusta sounds like the  _analyzer_. Calm down and think about it. Always the one to come up with a solution, always pointing out details and new things."

Augusta looked in her direction.

"Yes, that sounds plausible. But why Terence?"

She straightened, looking on him, then folded hands.

"As was pointed out to me by Alford… he from the very beginning was the only one cheering us up and encouraging to do something, not sit around waiting for a miracle. And never lost his nerves. Besides," she snapped fingers. "you just give off that vibe."

He was looking back unblinking with a smile. "If you say so," he shrugged modestly.

"What is true is that nobody else seems to scream it," Timothy shrugged as well.

..............................................................................

 

Shouting in the morning has become so common Fabius didn't even stir when someone did so breathlessly. A pounding on the door, however, surprised him unpleasantly.

"Get up, you lazy asses!" Rita said through the door, moving on to knock rapidly on the next. "You're REALLY going to like what you see!"

"I do already," came muffled, followed by a smack.

"Look out  _the window_ , I meant!"

Joyful yelps and astonished questions and laughter came after, and then he finally rolled out of bed and dragged himself to the hallway to see.

Having to push through the small crowd at the window was a feat, but he then finally got a glimpse of the garden and of what was on one end. He squinted, then rubbed his eyes, but the image didn't change - in the distance, over frozen trees and roots and on a wide patch of white there stood market stalls.

"We  **do**  have visitors." He barely finished the sentence when they rushed into their respective rooms and it turned into a race of epic proportions of who will be finished dressing first, they couldn't jump into pants and winter coats fast enough. Running down the stairs they practically stumbled over each other and their feet like a collective adrenaline rush, laughing and gasping before running out of the door, some still sleepily wiping their eyes but all wanting to see what blessed the solitude of castle Storytime.

…………

 

"You know, the garden's bigger than it looks like," Terence was huffing after a while of walking. "can we slow down a bit?"

"Take it like a man!" Amanda smacked his shoulder. "It's not far now."

"Nope, it's straight there," Fabius pointed a few hundred meters ahead.

"Adventure time!" Timothy shouted over their heads, throwing hands up high and making Leyla flinch. "Finally something apart from carcasses! No offense."

"None taken," Augusta raised eyebrows, eying him briefly.

"Or were you referring to a different kind of carcass?" Rita whistled after it innocently, making Tate groan out loud and Timothy smirk.

The stalls were curiously disorganized even from afar. It almost seemed as though a child grabbed a handful of toys and threw them on a open space, or a poor attempt at art. There were no straight paths to go through visible, but one couldn't get lost due to every stall having its own unique shape. Some were only slightly deformed and some were so completely off that the group stopped by them and tried to guess, how do they look inside and how do they even move.

"And how did they get in?" Rita said suddenly. "We have no gate."

"If Kee got us in, what makes you think stalls would be a problem?" Jeanne answered, still looking around with a huge smile.

"Touché."

But apart from the strange stalls, there was nothing around. Or rather, nobody, and it was deserted.

"There goes. And I was looking forward to company," Amanda groaned, slumping forward.

"Maybe they'll come out after dark," Gabrielle said, stopping to admire something which looked like a magician's cart.

"Very possible!" Augusta nodded lively. "What do you think? We'll come later and observe?"

"No way! I'm looking around now too! Later it maybe won't be as interesting," Terence was already a few paces ahead, followed at a brisk pace by Amanda, who was whistling along.

………………………...

 

"Well got to say, this isn't much of a weather for adventure," Leyla was squealing after a few minutes of walking.

"I'd say. It never got this cold over at home!" Timothy was wrapping himself up tighter. "Proves we aren't there."

"I would guess at least Finland," Augusta added. "this weather is  _ridiculous_."

Fabius didn't have the heart to tell them it was barely below minus five and that it would probably get even colder later.

"It'll be worth it," Terence said defiantly.

The only thing that cheered them up was that Gabrielle was right. While nothing living was out there during daylight, after sunset it seemed that it exploded with life. Every stall was opened and people (and what looked a bit less human) poured out. The crowd was not thick, but after seeing only eleven others for a while it came as a shock for every party member to see so many barter over each other and toss things around between them, seemingly uncaring that twelve gaped on them.

"Fall out!" Terence declared cheerfully, grabbing Amanda under one arm and Timothy under the other and pulling them into one direction, Leyla and Peter trailing after them hesitantly. Rita shrugged and went into another, the same as Augusta and Tate, not particularly close behind. Alford offered a arm to Gabrielle, which she took and pointed on something in the distance with a low murmur and grin. He moved there immediately, seeming interested, and pulled her along.

Fabius looked down on Jeanne, who eyd him quizzically. "Fourth path?" he pointed ahead. She shrugged stepped into one of the thinly crowded lanes.

Jeanne was a very observant person of odd details around, and frequently tugged on his arm or shirt to point them out.

"I think that dog has more tails than he should have."

"Hey! That big blue one, do you see it? I think it's a storm bird. I haven't seen one live before."

"That girl's legs didn't touch the ground."

"Did he just go into a tree?"

"Is that fire without a candle?"

The truth was the place was very much not natural in itself even without the visitors. The lights around moved of their own accord, blinked and appeared again in the distance, those near by casting a blue glow on the many heads. Sometimes laughter from the shadows rang, eerie and distant, making the hairs on their necks stand, and some barters didn't sound like money was ever involved. Fabius clutched on his companion's arm unconsciously, passing one, and was glad not to be alone and that the girl looked so much more at ease.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt us," she said promptly, patting his back. "they're not even interested."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I asked them and they said they're here every year." He hummed, looking around more freely.

"How come you're so unfazed by everything?"

Jeanne looked up, pushing her hat a bit backwards to see him better.

"Unfazed?" she repeated, confused.

"You… take all the magic for granted."

"I don't!" "But…"

"I accept them! Not take them for granted. It's not my fault you're freaking out," she pouted, in the moment looking like a stubborn - if somewhat cute - child. "And I can't get you to take it easy!"

He stopped on place, looking on her face in awe.

"I didn't mean…" she started.

"No! No, I - I think I know, what's your role."

"I know it too," she shrugged, which had about the same effect as a bucket of cold water.

"You do? But why didn't you tell?"

"I wanted to…" she frowned, slowly starting to walk again and pulling him along. "but I for some reason… couldn't."

"You  _couldn't_?"

"Yes. It's like every time I wanted to, my tongue wouldn't move. Like it was glued on place, you know? Not that I tried that before."

Fabius looked on her sideways. "There's no need to confirm that, you know…"

"Oh. Sorry, thought I had to. HEY LOOK!"

He nearly fell off his feet when she pulled him down by the shawl and hissed for her to stop doing that to him, at what she pointed to one direction.

"Look at that fox. It's green." He stared into the dark, seeing a light shape a few paces away under a vagon.

"It's not. It's just a play of light on whit… holy shit, that fox is really green."

They stood in stunned silence for a moment before glancing on each other and running right after the creature.

It ran under the stalls and in between people's legs and changed directions often enough for them to run into each other, stranger's backs and knocking over a few things in the way - umbrella's and flowerpots and a small table - and having to apologize while all the time keeping an eye out on the fox, whose bushy tail was constantly in sight and out of reach.

When it ran out onto a clearing, Fabius had to stop and lean on a tree, catching breath.

"Wait a… wait a sec'… I'm dizzy."

Jeanne stopped reluctantly, stepping on place while he barely stood on his feet.

On the clearing a fence high two meters was built, held in place by ropes, and something not quite visible lied on the further side contently. On the same one, boxes lied piled up chaotically and in a few of them there was movement.

"And this is how we lost the green beast," she sighed.

"We're not supposed to catch it," Fabius heard himself saying.

"Huh?" "The hero is. But now that we know where it went to," he nodded up on one of the boxes where a grass-colored tail stuck out. "we can point him to it."

…………….

 

_Dear group,_

_You really seem to have a talent at guessing what you are not supposed to know. That is, the roles. But I suppose I should have expected you to find out - you are a smart bunch, afterall. However, I strictly ask you to not meddle with them._

_Keeper_

 

'What exactly counts as 'meddling' with them?' Augusta wrote down in the notebook.

  
_You are perfectly aware already what I mean. They can't be changed and definitely not exchanged_.

"What were you three doing exactly, for God's sake?" Peter snorted in amusement over Augusta, Tate and Rita's sour expressions.

"Just a bit of experimenting," Tate shrugged. "turns out, trying to do something that another should know simply didn't cut it. It was awkward and uncomfortable. It seems that the roles are not exactly randomly assigned, but based on all of what we are…"

"Surprise, surprise!" Leyla sounded overly cheerfully, earning death glares.

"So you guessed a few more?" Fabius yawned, rubbing his forehead.

"Yes, sort of… but speaking about your own seems to be tough. Or should I say downright impossible? Still," Tate snapped fingers then. "they fit like a glove."

Terence was listening in a corner, curled up in a armchair, and was being very quiet.

"I don't think so," he murmured.

"Don't be silly," Rita rolled eyes. "do you complain about being a hero?"

"Um…" he gulped audibly. "I'm not fit out to be one."

"You're afraid to be the center of attention again, aren't you."

His face said yes for him. The room went very quiet, the people looking on one and the other as if watching a tennis match.

"Chicken! You're always complaining about how everyone ignores you, and now that you have a chance to show something, you want to back out?!"

Rita stood up smacking hands on the table, turning fully to her brother, who was looking at her shyly.

"Lemme tell you this, I am not LETTING YOU!"

Peter put a hand on her shoulder then, pushing her back into the chair gently.

"You're pressuring him. Calm down, will you?"

"Then, it wouldn't do much for the hero to have a heart attack barely in the second month," Timothy added, dusting off his knees. He had his feet propped up on the table. "Don't be overmotivated."

Terence looked visibly relieved.

"And does a hero have to be in the spotlight?" Gabrielle asked lazily, seated in front of the fireplace with folded hands. "That's called a protagonist… not hero."


	4. Last ride of the day

  
_"Can we talk about something else?!_ " Amanda yelled to the ceiling, exasperated. "It turns to this  _every time_. I'm getting tired of it! Don't you people have other topics to talk about?!"

 

"Do we all have things in common?" Alford asked calmly, stirring the soup in his plate. "There aren't too many of them, really."

 

"Alcoholics Anonymous all over again?" Leyla asked, raising eyebrows on them expectantly.

 

"Can't wait!" Peter went with obviously fake joy. "Who wants to talk?"

 

"For this being a adventure month, we didn't do a whole lot of it," Terence proclaimed, getting up. His plate was a mess despite there being little food left, and he didn't try to clean it. "I'm going out."

 

"Yeah, have fun freezing to death," Rita snorted. Fabius rolled eyes. "What are you going to do?"

 

"Slide down the roof," he tossed back, then went out the door.

 

"Be careful!" Jeanne called after him, lifting up her fork. She had something that resembled spinach and she carefully examined her next bite before eating.

 

"Seriously though," Fabius clasped hands. "you all have books in front of you. What are they usually?"

 

"Thrillers," Timothy said, leaning back in his seat completely.

 

"Scripts and fairy tales, mythology, that sort of things," Gabrielle replied smoothly. Her book was propped in front of her plate and she occassionally set aside her spoon to turn a page. It had no title on the cover, so ti was hard to tell which one of those was it.

 

"Fantasy and psychology books," Alford added his bit, then turned around to the direction of one of the doors. "Did he really go…?"

 

"He's not THAT crazy, is he?" Amanda chuckled. "Dramas… wait, I told you already, didn't I? Oh, haha. Sorry."

 

"Humor, black humor too," Rita raised her hand high. "Terence reads them as well, but he's more into sci-fi. I always wondered what he sees in it…" She looked to her left, on Leyla, and elbowed her. "Your turn."

 

"Me? Ohh… Romance!" she grinned. "My favorite book is Merveilleuse Angèlique. That has history and adventure too..."

 

"Is that French?" Timothy looked at her over his cover.

 

"Yes, why?" "Just asking. Checking if I heard right. Yeaaaah, Augusta? From the looks of it, I would say scientific journals for you."

 

"Nice going, Tim. Do YOU read books on martial arts?" "Ehm, not really?"

 

"Me neither. For your information, horror is my favorite genre," she straightened up, offended. Whistles went through the room.

 

" _That's_  new!" Gabrielle called out. "A favorite?"

 

"Frankenstein. Move along, move along, nothing to hear here-"

 

A rapid screech sounded outside and then a loud crack, after which also a softer thump echoed. Confused glances were exchanged before Rita went pale.

 

"That LUNATIC!"

 

She jumped up and tried to put on a coat and shoes at the same time before scurrying out. The rest stayed sitting for a moment longer before it dawned on them what might've happened and at once everyone wanted to get out the same door, pushing past each other and falling.

 

The roof on one of the lower parts of the building, sticking out, had a wide hole on one place and a line in the snow, ending in a snowdrift.

 

" _Where are you?!_ "

 

Rita's voice jumped up and down in octaves while she frantically looked around and in the snow. From a different rift, an odd heap emerged, all over with snow, and came to her.

 

"Here!" he suddenly taped her from behindt.

 

"You're insane!" Timothy told him breathlessly. "You really… you've… you could have broken your neck!"

 

Terence started laughing so hard he fell back into the snow. Rita sat straight back down too, burying her face in the white pile and apparently not being able to sit back up. The rest stood either in stunned silence or tried to find words. Jeanne was laughing too.

 

"You… actually… slid down the roof?" Fabius mouthed, not blinking once.

 

"Matter of factly, yes, I did."

 

"I have to remember to listen to what you say next time," Augusta shook head then. "hell, I should listen even now!"

 

"You could have hurt yourself BADLY," Alford stated.

 

"No. I've done this many times. I have it down to an art," he responded proudly.

 

"Not on an unfamiliar roof!" Rita murmured, straightening with her hair wet.

 

Amanda came to him slowly and put both hands on his shoulders.

 

"Terence. You have to teach me how to slide down a roof.  _Please, teach me how to slide down a roof_."

He nodded enthusiastically.

 

……………………….

 

 

The green beast sat contently in a cage on top of a pile of others with various animals, not all of them of familiar shapes, looking on them curiously. None of the others were green.

 

"What did you say was the prize for?" Amanda turned a bit to the side, whispering. "And why this, of all things?"

 

"Riding something, so I've heard last night at least," Peter murmured, leaning on the fence. "I didn't catch much. Frankly, being here on your own is a little scary..."

 

During the day, again nothing and nobody could be found except for the small animals in cages on a far end of a clearing with a fence that held nothing.

 

"One thing I don't understand is why they only open at night - and in February!" he added.

 

"A lot of fey creatures can't handle sunlight," Jeanne blurted out seemingly automatically.

 

"And the sales would be low during the day, eh?" Timothy nodded.

 

"Can't we simply… take it now?" Gabrielle suggested, nodding to the fox which eyed them curiously.

 

"You mean steal it?" Alford whistled. "Practically saying, that doesn't sound like a bad idea."

 

"With the owner in our yard?" Timothy looked on him skeptically. "I don't think so."

 

"How would he know who was it?"

 

"She. The owner is a water fai…"

 

"Sprite," Jeanne corrected him before he finished. "and she would know. Trust me."

Gabrielle made a face. "Yes, alright, bad idea. One does not mess with the Fair Folk."

 

………………………...

 

 

The same day after sunset the clearing around the cages and fence was crowded and what went on in the front could only be guessed by the sounds and shouts of the many different throats, cheering someone on. Some of the languages were unfamiliar.

 

"What's going on?!" Leyla desperately tried to stand as high as possible. "I can't see anything!"

 

Fabius was on his toes as well, but still caught only glimpses, Jeanne was jumping up and down. Augusta, also on the lower side, wasn't even trying. Tate raised his head a bit higher too and his eyes widened.

 

"That thing inside is a… horse… or something. Wait, no. Like a cross between a horse and goat and… it jumps up  _very_ fiercely!"

 

At that moment, the aforementioned horse kicked up his back legs with a rear high enough for them to see, sending a unfortunate man flying with a scream among the bystanders in the front, disappearing from sight.

 

"Well, that must have been painful," Tate referred.

 

"I still don't see anything!" Leyla cried out, at what Tate scooped her up and onto his shoulders. Terence was already climbing one of the stales in the shape of a bear, sitting on top of its wooden head. Instantly, his victorious face fell, and he gulped.

 

"That isn't a horse. It's… something else…"

 

Jeanne didn't hesitate to climb up too, followed by Amanda, whose smile also froze.

 

"It's a quilin," the younger girl said, pointing into the fence. "but it's devilish."

 

"Is there a creature you don't know?" the redhead turned to her, frowning.

 

"I have no clue."

 

"Can you help me up?" Fabius pulled on Amanda's pants leg, swallowing pride. All three reached down and clumsily got him up on the wheels and then the roof, and he finally could take a look on more than the being's ears and mane.

 

In the middle of the circle, on lush grass not trampled even though the previous wild prancing, there stood with front legs spread, head hung low and flaring nostrils a lean, dark creature. It's neck and sides were scaly, legs like a deer's, head between a deer and a dragon with antelope horns - it's eyes were dark green, and its wild and long mane (that looked like made of flames whenever it moved) was red.

 

It whinnied in a high, clear manner that couldn't belong to a horse and started pacing the place, staring around defiantly.  Nobody else dared go forth to it.

 

"Our quilin is nervous today," sounded from the boxes, which earned their and the crowd's attention. "Well ladies and gentlemen, I again announce the challenge to tame the quilin to all of you and to earn a one-of-a-kind prize, this spirit!"

 

The speaker, which was a young sprite (that much was apparent even to those never seeing a nymph before), pulled out the green fox from its cage and raised it above her head. The fox let itself be handled like a kitten. Terence grabbed the first thing at his right side, which was Amanda's hand.

 

"The fox is a prize for WHAT?!"

 

She gazed down oddly and tried to pull away in vain.

 

"That's… holy crap, I didn't expect it to be that hard!" he stared on her helplessly.

 

"Um… I'm sure you'd handle it. Could you let go?"

 

"Look at that thing! Even if it was a normal horse it would be tough to ride!"

 

"You don't have to ride it right now!" she snapped, shaking his shoulder with the free hand, glaring hard on him for a moment. "We'll find a way, okay?"

 

The quilin lifted head, its long ears turning in their direction when Terence nodded with a sigh, shoulders slumped.

 

"Carcass," Amanda shook him again with a grin. "get a grip. You worry too much."

 

Fabius watched the creature settle down, stretch its front legs and suddenly gaze around as peacefully as a lamb.

 

……………………..

 

 

 

"I could get used to this," Gabrielle proclaimed lowly from her seat. "long winter nights spent in front of a fireplace with a library at your disposal… no problems… nothing you have to do, only be yourself."

 

"And what is it you are?" Alford asked from a bit behind her in a seat of his own, another story opened on his knees. She didn't respond.

 

"He asked something, you know," Rita called from the table.

 

"I don't feel obliged to respond to it," she explained calmly. Terence sat across from her, legs under him. At that he looked up.

 

"It's polite," he said. "and when one doesn't-"

 

"It's alright," Alford shook his head. "you don't have to. It WAS a personal question."

 

"IIt was?" Amanda asked. She sat sprawled on a old sofa at one wall under a faded tapestry which, at some point, may have had the picture of a jousting match on it. The sofa looked out of place under it with it shape, though not age.

 

"Yes," he cut it short, sounding slightly irritated.

 

"Could you not interrupt me mid-sentence?" Terence grumbled. "It gets annoying."

 

" **It also gets annoying when you keep responding to private conversations!** " Alford suddenly snapped, making him jump in seat.

 

Fabius sat in a corner with a notebook he brought from home and listened to the exchanges. He was also writing down the groups that usually formed.

 

"But that could mean nothing," he whispered to himself while they bickered. He paid attention to them, but couldn't see a pattern no matter how hard he tried. Everyone seemed to be the same. Everyone seemed to play a different role in every conversation.

 

_If only I knew their minds a bit better!_

 

When a story was laid out in front of him, he could see its flaws at once - its points and logic, its good sides, recognize every character type and predict an end. The mechanics were a mere formality to write down and comment on.

 

_Of only I knew how to detach myself from the whole situation!_

 

Too much needless information made a mess for him, made his head spin and go into every wrong direction. He couldn't tell, where could it go, and neither could probably they. He wasn't even sure if the Keeper knew.

 

  
_But knowing the bastard by now, probably yes_.

 

.........................................................................................

 

It went very quiet when most of them were out. He didn't know if anyone was in their room, but nobody was on the lowest floor.

Fabius had a habit of standing and listening to nothing in particular when he was alone, rarely turning on any music. Usually a rustle of leaves or just buzzing of electricity was enough. Any sounds at all that were hidden if there was a racket were interesting to him, anything that was under it was a wonder, the lowest ones being a mystery to figure out.

There were many in the castle on different places. Drops of water on stone, cracking of old wood, a hustle of the carpet when stepped on, wind wailing in the holes and windows rattling under it and the snow blown on them, they all provided a background. On certain places squeaks sometimes turned up and he wondered about the rat society in Storytime with amusement. Other times he stood by the fire for hours and listened to the symphony, forgetting about time.

But he found a favorite place not in the fireplace, but in a spot between three corridors in front of a window. A hundred tones always were heard and Fabius made it a personal quest to listen to the softest of them, whichever it was. Falling snow was so far his favorite, because it could be heard only if utmost silence was around.

The first time he heard new, unfamiliar voices it was the third day there, and it sent chills down his spine and made him want to run. And he did. He breathlessly flied down the stairs and into the dining hall, among living people and noise and into safety, what he knew well already, heart still pounding.

The second time he merely shut himself up in his room, ignoring them and trying to pretend they were a hustle of plants, the air maybe, or that they weren't there at all.

His habit showed through either way when they started singing one day. It was the day that the Keeper wrote back to them or, in other words, the day all of them started believing in magic.

The Storyteller stopped to listen to them that day, and discovered they were bits and pieces of tales with or without music.

At first it was difficult to keep attention on only one of them, or several, or recognize what was going on. The fourth, fifth, then tenth time they were a lot more understandable and he found out he recognized some of them, he even reviewed them before.

Hearing them this way, so quiet it was partly only heard as a whisper in the back of the mind, was however a entirely different experience and became a pastime he was fond of. There were all kinds of them and he never knew, what would be going on next - whether it would be short or long, a work of comedy or tragedy, sometimes only a monologue telling of someone's own story, as if a dramatic reading.

Every genre seemed wondrous, every character alive if they sounded in a particular way with a certain melody, perfectly fitting in place and creating a world around him. He could almost make out shapes from the tones, sense the activity if he didn't stir himself.

Some were unfamiliar and had all the more impact. Some voices and musical numbers reminded him of his co-habitants, and he marked down notes quickly as lighting to names. Soon, whole pages were filled, but there were still gapes and blind spots. They were places he didn't know what to fill with.

  
_I wish I could hear a song about them,_  he sighed inwardly.  _About each of them. I wish there was someone who could help me with that._  


_If only I was as good a storyteller as those voices._

……………………..

 

February was almost at an end, but the quilin still paced inside the fence and still threw off every new rider in a fit of fierce fury and then stood calm, nipping at the grass or looking around on the sour faces of past losers. The green fox was in the cage every time, though sometimes it was opened. The sprite was always there too, not happier nor sadder at the prospect of not having anyone to do it.

"She doesn't seem to give a fuck," Timothy commented on it in his usual honest-till-it-hurts way.

"Maybe she's just waiting for the right person?" Amanda suggested. "Well, it IS supposed to be our story."

"I wouldn't sit on that," Rita shook head. "who knows if only the protagonist wouldn't survive. You messed my head there with the protagonist and hero difference!" she barked on Gabrielle, who shrugged it off.

"Those other ones were fine, just with bruises on wrong places," Leyla chuckled.

"I'm going to do it," Terence said light-heartedly, leaning on the fence.

Around him, grave silence fell for a second. Rita then smacked his back with a laugh.

"I knew you could do it one day!"

Almost at the same time, Timothy looked at him in horror.

"You can't be serious! There's got to be another way, you can't go on top of that!"

"Of course he can!"

" _Have sense._  You're not a professional, or grew up around them. This can't end well for-"

"Oh, shush! It will go well! I can sense it."

"You don't know that! He won't just get the ability out of nowhere-"

"He can still try, for-"

"It's too dangerous!"

Terence watched the pair's exchange, not even aimed on him anymore, with a mixture of a startled and amused expression. He then pushed them apart.

"Calm down, you two. Bicker all 'ya want, but it's not going to affect me one way or another." He climbed to the other side of the fence, followed by bewildered pairs of eyes.

"Are you sure?" Amanda called out to him.

"Never been surer in my life," he tossed back. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, but remember how to fall!" she added, to which he saluted and went straight over to the quilin, which was lying on the grass. Some of them pushed closer to the fence, some rather stepped a bit back when he sat on its back and caught onto the horns right away, taking a big breath visibly.

"Off you go, my friend," the sprite whistled.

To nobody's too big surprise, the quilin went from a innocent youngster to a bull seeing a red flag in seconds after standing up.

Only at that moment did Fabius realize just why was the creature always on grass while snow was all around.

When it jumped up high, smoke came from under its hooves upon its fall. With mighty, deafening rears it started trashing as if it carried nothing more than a annoying insect on its back and ran around and spun in circles that made the onlookers dizzy even seeing them and then went higher than any horse, goat or gazelle was able to, green eyes blazing bright. It did all this with everlasting energy and the force of its movements sent mud and hair flying around and made it and its current load only a blur to the naked eye, color and smell and blasts of vitality from the lower one. Most whistled and commented along even if it made noise for ten, and a few in the crowd started praying that he wouldn't fall in that speed. A slide down the roof was one thing, this another - and hitting the fence would not be a pretty sight.

But he held on. For all he feared the ride and for all he said he was not fit for it, he held on while he had the mane and horns pulled to him tightly and kept balance, moving almost in unison with the animal.

Glimpses of his expression - however brief - never showed panic, only concentration and maybe bits of pain from the violent thrusts of the quilin's back.

There maybe was only one person that in that situation looked on the equine, but when he did, he stayed dumbstruck.

It was not enraged or afraid. Apart from its own concentration on movements and the ground underneath, it showed only amusement and joy, maybe a bit of a trickster spirit, but no malice. He could tell because its expression was almost human.

"He's not going to let go, is he?" Leyla asked at once point, there was no telling how much time has passed, second or minutes or half a hour. "No matter how hard it is."

"No," Rita shook head. "he's not."

Soon after, the animal stopped abruptly, head hung low but ears perked up, body still shaking with elan and one front hoof pawing at the ground.

Terence was at that point almost breathless and damp with sweat, his legs trembling, holding on seemingly only by force of will, but he was nevertheless still on and clutching.

"Go on," he breathed, then let out a short laugh. "we can go on 'till mornin'. I've no problem with that. Sure, I'll probably be dead halfway, but I'll be stuck on ya'."

It snorted gently, as if saying 'I highly doubt that' and then stood on its back legs, falling to its front hard and kicking out one last time. He let out a yelp and nearly slid off, but he managed to catch himself. It was not necessary however, because it stood still on place, waiting for him to loosen his grip before lying back down to the grass, stretching its legs and swishing the lion tail.

The reverie was broken by the clear voice of a water sprite; "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!"

He then did fall forward, resting his face into the mane and he wasn't able to get up even when dozens and dozens of voices cheered him on. He got to his senses only when he was picked up by the back of his coat by Peter, who with a murmur checked whether or not he's fine, and then supported him. Receiving the green fox by a jump into his shoulder was then merely a glamorous full-stop to the spectacle.

…………………………..

 

The next day at noon, the green beast slept under Terence's bed while he was still in it as well. Fabius peeked in on him along with Rita.

"You're not getting up?" she questioned.

"Err…" he grinned. "this is somewhat embarrassing, but… could you guys maybe bring me a plate to bed? My legs are killing me right now and ass is not thankful either."

Rita eyed him. "Just this once."

"I'm gonna love you forever, thanks!"

Nearly everyone sat on his bed and chairs nearby when he ate late breakfast, some on the ground.

"I must say, that was quite the show," Timothy patted him on the shoulder, making him wince. "I thought you'd snap your neck.  _Again_. Turns out you're near invincible!"

"Just trained," Terence corrected him politely. "and very careful when moving…"

The fox then jumped up and settled itself on the blanket, not bothered by company in the slightest.

"About that. Pray tell how did you manage such a remarkable feat?" Gabrielle crossed arms. "Why did it not throw you off too?"

"I think it would have continued if I wasn't bringing it apples for the last two weeks."

Uproarious laughter rang through the room and a few more pats were given, even her smiling.

"Clever," she acknowledged.

"I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't a task in itself," Alford picked up the fox, looking it over. "The only thing that seems out of the ordinary about this spirit is it's tame behavior." It struggled in response and fell back down, settling on the bed once more, then went to curl up on Jeanne's lap.

"It's cute too," she added, scratching it between the ears.

Tate walked in, handling a paper to Terence in a formal matter. "This is for you, it was on the table. Kee, of course."

He snatched it and went over it briefly, smiling. Then he folded it up.

 

"Just a congratulations and announcement of free time."

"For those few days," Rita sighed. "Now there is a important question. Amanda, could you tell us the signs of a drama over dinner?"


	5. Drama

The whispers turned a bit quieter after February ended, and the mood cooled from excited to a mild activity.

Fabius was examining the notes from the first two months suspiciously.

_January - Mystery. Searching for clues… talking about options… not knowing, what's happening… mystery tropes._

_February - lost of activity… different ideas… bits of danger… Adventure tropes and mood. Now there's a pattern!_

_Drama. Drama, drama, drama._

The genre was only slightly familiar to him, but there were a few things he knew. The word didn't trigger a entirely pleasant image.

He stood on his spot again, listening to faint sounds of the residents and the wind and the stories, but the only ones being sung were old ballads. To that, soft steps entered. He managed to count to ten before someone put a hand on his shoulder from behind sharply, making him twitch in pain.

"Daydreaming?"

"Listening. Hello, Alf."

"I see you do that often. What do you hear?"

"A lot of things," he said, closing eyes briefly. He could hear the other man's heartbeat, steady, if a bit faster than the norm. "I have good ears."

"I noticed that. Hey, could you be so kind and tell me, with which to start?"

Alford outstretched hands with two books. He eyed them for a moment.

"What are you trying to do, perfect your dictionary or have better knowledge of Shakespeare?"

"I have knowledge enough, I am trying to… recognize some words."

"Recognize words someone said?"

" …not exactly."

"Words you heard here?"

He stayed silent. "In a dream. Which one?"

"What was it?"

Alford gave him a apologetic smile, scratching his nose.

"I did try to talk about it, but I can't."

"Oh," Fabius covered his forehead with a sigh. "yes… right. Sorry. Well, I suggest you check which one contains better explanations of words. It's either under the pages or there's a list at the end. Depends on the publication, I don't have them memorized. Can I ask you something?"

"Thank you, and yes."

"You said you read books on psychology too, right?"

He nodded. "Do you put the things into practice too?"

"Of course I do! Why?"

"Umm…" Fabius sauntered towards him and leaned forward. "Do you think you could tell me some details about everyone…?"

"You're piercing together who's who, aren't you." Alford pat his back in a softer manner than before.

…………………….

 

"What did you find out on your own?" Alford stretched on two chairs comfortably, though they were far apart.

A surprise was that voices didn't echo in such a big room at all, even if one stood in the center. The library in their city was smaller, but even footsteps were heard on the other side easily on a carpet.

"To be truthful, next to nothing. What anyone can see. I need to dig a bit…" Fabius signed with one hand downwards. "deeper."

"And you want me to…?" the first one raised eyebrows quizzically.

"I want your guesses. Who do you think could be who based on… whatever… what you see fit." "You're stuck."

"Yes, obviously. I know it's not entirely my JOB to find that out, but… I'm nervous when I don't know things like that."

Alford burst into laughter. "You've been in such a situation before?!"

"Duh, NO! But because of that I want to be ahead."

Alford stuck out a finger, grinning. "Ah, ah, ah. You're part of the story as much as we are, that was outright stated. You can't get very ahead without being a seer. Or accused of being a madman. That is, both can go hand in hand," he mused, grinning.

"ALF," Fabius crashed forward on the table heavily, among piles of books and a cup of coffee, with clasped hands. "I  _need_  your  _help_.  _Please_."

"Alright, but that will only be my subjective guesses. Remember I'm not a professional in psychology."

"You're the only one that know  _something_  of it here."

"True that one," Alford nodded cheerfully, crossing legs, to which Fabius pushed his notes across the table. He snatched them up and dug into them enthusiastically.

"Boy, is this a mess! Worse than my grandmother's writing… and the contents are a mess, too. You practically guess all of them for most… wait… no. Nobody as a villain or dragon."

"Yet. I haven't gotten that far yet," the Storyteller acknowledged in shame.

"Nobody did." He got a strange look. "But into this. What did you judge by"

"Uh, what I heard?" "Reeeeally? Just that?"

" …yes?"

"That's not very much," he got eyed from above glasses, getting the impression of having a exam checked, which was not very pleasant. "and I think someone here mistakes personality for a possible role."

"And I shouldn't?"

"Of course not. Didn't they teach you not everything is what it seems to be?"

To Fabius' grimace he waved a hand impatiently.

"Apparently not to apply it to everything." He read a few pages again briefly.

"You need to understand," he began. "that you can only guess a role in relation to a group, not by watching one individual. Also forget HOW someone said something - try what they reacted to and remember  _what was it about_. I'll meanwhile try to ignore your handwriting."

Fabius ignored the impulse to kick him under the table and thought about it, then hunted in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a paper with the description of the roles.

"My guess for the voice of reason is Timothy," Alford added after.

"WHO?" Fabius blurted out in disbelief.

"Think. Remember one shiny example of our 'hero' going on the quilin? What happened there before?"

"He… tried to talk him out of it." "Why?"

"Because he thought it was dangerous."

"And before? When Terence slid down the roof. Who was the first to point out he could've killed himself?"

"Him. But that was obvious to everyone."

"Who came up with a practical - of weird - solution to examining the dungeon?"

"Oh." "EXACTLY," Alford grinned victoriously, happy to prove his point. "now, for the rest it's soon, but I had one more guess for the nymph."

"…I guessed that much myself." "I see. Jeanne?"

"Of course. But how about other things you noticed?"

Alford settled down more comfortably, sipping of the coffee with a thoughtful face before settling it back down.

"Amanda is slightly paranoid about someone getting close, guess she has stressful surroundings at home or something happened before. Tate is by far the most mentally stable from all of us, that shows on patience, reactions temper, whatnot," he waved hand dismissively. "in everything.

Rita has the most self-respect, but she can be thrown off balance very easily. Hard-earned, I would say, and she has to work to keep it.

Terence might act like a absolute idiot sometimes, but I'd say it's because nobody really notices he does it usually, and when we do, he calms down a LOT. Lots of freedom, but also lots of neglect.

Leyla seems… a curious case. She stutters, but isn't slow to react or all that shy when she gets used to someone… I can't quite put my finger on it, frankly. I think she could be very eloquent and open, but something's holding her back."

He shrugged helplessly. "I can't tell, really.

As for Jeanne - most educated, least practice with conversation. She doesn't know, what to do with us. I'd imagine she's one of those single kids growing up in a big home with lots of places to discover and things to do, but not anyone to do them with. That tends to catch up with you at one point…

Augusta has only a mild temper problem, but that's probably because she doesn't get enough sleep. I saw her awake and sitting in the hall writing at  _four_."

"Why were YOU awake?"

"I was thirsty. Otherwise she's perfectly fine - bit bossy for my taste, but that's personality. Timothy, if you get past his manners and language, is reasonably nice and willing to cooperate. His job speaks for him, I'd say."

"He's a teacher, right?"

"Yes. His students have got to like him. About Peter, it's the kindest person I have met, and also meekest. I don't know what got him like this… it's sure a wonder how he can get under your radar! Do you want to hear about yourself?"

"Give it a shot," Fabius was grinning, propped up on one elbow.

"Well. You're very attentive, introspective, have a clear conscience, and can't judge a situation in front of his nose if you don't take a step away, and seem to be constantly thinking ahead."

"Ah, ah, ah. I know all of that myself," he snorted with a smug expression.

"Good for you," Alford shrugged, taking the coffee off the table again and turning halfway to the side. He ended his monologue. Fabius leaned forward.

"You left someone out." "I did?"

"Miss Cochran. Or rather, Gabrielle."

"Oh… I…don't think I'll sum that up very well," Alford took a quick sip again, this time bigger.

"Please?"

"Um, well… She looks like the smallest things have a bigger impact than the huge events. And try to get bit in, and she just… hides."

"Like poking a snail?"

"You could say, though a more elegant metaphor would fit."

Fabius hummed. "I see April will be interesting with this."

"Why Ap…? Oh, you didn't! There'll be no more romance than there is now!"

"Keep telling yourself that, but the genres DO affect us. I noticed it only in retrospective, BUT…" He leaned forward. "Besides I didn't say anything about you."

Alford's head shot up in shock, then he rested it in hands with a groan.

"Did I just fall for the oldest trick in the book?"

"Yes, you did," Fabius smirked. "it's hilarious how it always works! Care to elaborate?"

"Yy… no." "Don't worry, I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I think she's intriguing, that's all. For some reason. It's like she keeps reminding me of something..."

"Keeeeep telling yourself that…" Fabius only barely avoided a kick under the table. "Either way, thank you. Can I come to you with new things?"

"I'll be glad to hear them."

...................................................................

 

" ' _This month's task is for the Heart: keep the Dragon calm thorough the month_.' "  
Tate folded the small scrap of paper with a grave expression and looked around the dining hall.  
"Anyone volunteers?"  
"I doubt it," Timothy snorted.  
From the cheery relief upon discovering this new piece it went down to startled tension like a slap. Some were even strangely amused.  
Gabrielle scribbled into the notebook for a second, then shrugged over the response.  
"It was worth a shot."  
"From the looks of it, we are now stuck," Tate stated, sitting down heavily. Leyla leaned over what appeared on the pages right after.  
" _'You needn't worry, it will come naturally_ '. Well, that sounds like the answers of a test you should know."  
A stifled chuckle came from the side, but most were still a bit dumbstruck by it.

One thing that did come naturally was cabin fever.  
If it was possible, it became even colder outside (though the market visitors didn't seem to mind) and the frost forced them to stay mostly inside. Soon, it started to get on the more active members' nerves.  
The ones not usually outside during their free time were half-sorry, half-amused at how they paced the corridors having little to do and being bored to death with reading.  
Rita in particular was hell to be around, especially if she decided to look over someone's shoulder and see what they are doing instead. A common thing was dropping her chin on the top of their heads as well. The only ones that hadn't told her off for it were Tate and Peter, the latter because he didn't mind and the former seemed to not to find words that wouldn't sound rude.  
Her brother was no less annoying with the bizarre activities he thought up to keep himself occupied, but he usually didn't get in the way or too close. The sole exception was a day when the kitchen (which was small, usually empty and not very inviting) was crowded in a search for particular things that weren't found on the kitchen table. Snacks could not be found there.  
"You maybe could try to ask for it," Peter suggested, keeping a fair distance from one of the women, who was raiding the cupboards.  
"I did already ask for it, but I can't find it! Impossible. It's not that big here!"  
"Agreed. It's got to be around," Leyla added, sitting on the sink and crunching on something. Being that it didn't come in a package, it was impossible to tell, what it was. She had no problem with Amanda going around her and opening doors next to her, and simply lifted legs and ducked when needed.  
"Where did you find yours?"  
"On the table."  
Terence crept behind and tried to put a baking tin back into one of them over her without the redhead noticing, but when she abruptly straightened, she bumped into him. A brief startled expression flied over her face, but when she turned and saw who it was she calmed down.  
"If you want something, you could ask me to put it in," she berated him immediately, them being awkwardly stuffed in a small space between the sink and table.  
"I didn't want to bother you…"  
A snort came back. He again sheepishly tried to pull out a bowl instead from above Leyla's head, still behind Amanda.  
The second time she felt him there, she smacked his leg.  
" _Terence! Stop the hell taking things that way! I don't like when someone does that!_ "  
She turned, shoving the bowl into his hands. "Don't go there again!"  
He rolled eyes. "I'm soooorry, I didn't know it set you off like that."  
"Well you should have!" she spat, seeming unnerved more than usually. Leyla pat her on the back carefully.  
"He didn't do it on purpose."  
"He didn't do it on purpose that he was pulling things over my head and back?"  
"What's your problem?!" Terence snapped as well then.  
"I don't have a problem! I just don't like it!"  
"Why that much?!"  
"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"  
At that he gave up, turned on heel and went out of the kitchen, muttering 'those days' when he was at the door. Peter covered his face in the corner.  
………………………

They got snowed in the next day. Having only two shovels, getting out took several hours. In the end, they decided to take turns (or rather, a few decided, and the rest were too bored to protest trying to get out).  
"Isn't this supposed to be melting already?"  
"It would've, if we weren't in a story, and apparently someone takes great pleasure at tormenting us," Terence growled.  
"Don't overdram-"  
Fabius shut his mouth, then eyes for a second, and kept digging in the snow with a loud sigh. He caught the so-called 'shift' with the boy, and was already regretting it. The cold didn't add much to either of their moods.  
"Yes, it's possible."  
"And it's so COLD, damnit!"  
"I've noticed," he said dryly over his shoulder, rolling eyes. "but maybe you would be warmer if you covered up more."  
Terence smacked his hat protectively onto his head more. "No, it's fine."  
"If you say so…"  
They dug in silence for a while, snow flying.  
"Why do you always have it on? If you don't mind me asking."  
"No, um… no reason."  
"Really?" Fabius frowned incredulously.  
"It's a prize, if you must know," Terencepushed it back up to see better. The other kept quiet, waiting for him to continue, and he did.  
"When I was fifteen, we were once on this market, and that year it was western styled. Also there was this electric bull, you know those? So, whoever managed to keep on top for eight minutes, won a small sum of money and this."  
"And you won? That explains a lot!"  
"I won… half of my family saw it, and also nearly all of my friends, nevermind the crowd around. It was probably the only time everyone around knew my name," he went on in a light manner. "so I was really happy."  
At that moment, the door was opened with some difficulty by Rita, who told them their time was up.  
"Oh, I'm glad. Can we leave it for today? It's getting too cold to work outside. What's for dinner?"  
"Whatever you like," she raised eyebrows.  
"Oh, right. Silly me!"

Fabius shut his mouth over that particular matter and didn't mention it again.  
…………………………………..

The next day, it was again necessary to dig through the snow to get out, which was tougher when your partner sat in the snow.  
"Jeanne, aren't you going to help me even a BIT?" he groaned.  
"But it's heavyyy!" she protested at being dragged to her feet unceremonously.  
"At least try to!"  
"But I've never done this before!"  
"So? You need to learn one day."  
"No I don't," she refused, looking like a child with the pouting.  
"Jeanne! It's hard as it is for two!" Fabius cried out, throwing arms up. She groaned then, but took her shovel and began digging too.  
"It's also hard enough to climb through the window now," he added.  
"Not for me!"  
"Well, yes for me."  
"You need to learn some day," she winked, making him stop in his tracks, then laugh in disbelief.  
"Okay, point taken. Do you do that often?"  
"I used to all the time when I was smaller. We have some high trees by our house, so I climbed on them through the windows and down."  
"At night?" "Gosh, no! That was too dangerous. But I went to the roof at night."  
"Err…" he stopped to think, shaking off the image of a squirrel Jeanne. "why did you have to climb through the window during the day?"  
"Just sometimes, the house was locked when parents weren't at home, so I had to, but I didn't mind. It was practice!" she ranted on happily  
"Does that happen now too?"  
"Naaah! I've had my own key for three years, I made a copy."  
"How old were you?" "Fourteen."  
He let Jeanne be, because while she talked she didn't move, then she leaned against the handle of the shovel and went into a rant about her childhood, happily forgetting the work. Fabius did it by himself with a sigh, giving up due to not having the heart to shush her, and listened.  
She was a single child, mostly home schooled, and mostly alone during her early years save for her parents, other family and a parrot, which she taught to talk, and not for a moment did he notice any friends in it, but she didn't seem bothered or lonely. It was admirable, really.  
"I've always wanted to be a fey," she finished it. "one of those that never were the main character, but were always around. Like in Midsummer Night's Dream. People remember those. I want them to remember me like that too, as helping from the side... That would be awesome if I was in a book! Maybe that would keep me alive forever, to see all that," she spun around and pointed in the direction of the forest. He stopped digging a while ago himself, pondering her words.  
"Well," he said in a thoughtful drawl. "now you're a Nymph."  
"True! Also, I hear them."  
"You hear them?"  
"I hear voices in the garden. In the castle too, but mostly garden. They're very faint… but there are also songs, and I learned a lot of new things from them. Did you hear them too here?"  
"Well… Yes. Inside. There's a lot of different stories."  
"Stories? Strange, we must have heard something different," she mused, finally taking hold of the shovel properly.

On impulse, he said: "Maybe you heard fairies."

Jeanne straightened, and then gave him a bright smile. "You think? ...well, why not, maybe they would talk to me! Do you think they'd talk to me?"

It was more of an offhand joke, but seeing the beaming face and listening to her, he started to think it may really have happened. Heck, he wanted to talk to her more every day. Why wouldn't fairies? Some of the fair folk were already there, afterall...

"I think they would. Say... do you mind telling me more about it? I mean, after we finish," he added, startled she would put the shovel back down again.

"Over dinner!" she nodded, a very determined face on.

 


	6. Soft as snow, cold as ice

With small complains, digging ensued the next day again.

This time, he dug first thing in the morning – still yawning – accompanied by a somber, blond-haired being right beside him helping. She got a good deal more done that him, which he was very glad of, and half an hour later they sat down into the slightly opened door where warmth came from.

Gabrielle didn’t complain or praise anything, and her expression mostly didn’t change thorough the work, though it got a bit more peaceful after she sat down. Looking at her was like admiring a icicle – as pale and light, as amazing with the sun shining on her, and about as pleasant when touched.

"You did well,” he stated awkwardly when they sat silent for a while.

"Thank you.”

"Uh, who’s going after us?”

"I’m not entirely sure, but it’s in a while, so I think we can go.” Right at that point a load of snow fell from the roof and to the path they cleared up. She threw up her hands in frustration.

"...So do we dig through THAT too?

"Well, I don’t leave a job unfinished,” she replied with a sigh, taking hold of the shovel again, then she started to energetically throw the snow away again. The vitality was surprising, either because she, too, looked like made of snow, or because of the usually emotionless appearance.

"You didn’t seem like the type to… work more than needed.”

"I will work more if it serves a purpose,” she shrugged. "but not otherwise.”

"Oh okay, I'm sorry.” "Apology accepted.”

"Are you used to this? It looks as if it's easy for you.”

"Being that I work in gardens a lot, yes.” She blew a sigh. "I did do some part time work in the botanical garden and shoveling snow away, too. There's always a lot to do."

He mentally slapped himself for forgetting her main future path.

"Alright, I admit, those were stupid questions...”

"Only a little,” she chuckled. It was more of a huff of air than anything.

"But… there’s one… and I would _love_ to hear about that… Did you hear any voices? –Because I have,” he added quickly. "and so did Jeanne.”

"And so did Peter and Alford, yes. I know. So have I.”

He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and suddenly wasn't able to stand still.

"What was it? I mean what did you hear in particular?”

"It was…” she stood still for a moment bend forward, eyes turning upward in thought. "it was a certain character type… a lot of people of the same, human or otherwise,” she spoke carefully, trying to tell as much as possible with vague descriptions and specifically chosen words. "sometimes they were… monologues, sometimes pieces – replies to someone, sometimes not even words.

Sometimes, it was addressed to me as if I was one of them.” A dreamy expression came over her features. "It felt nice, very natural. I guess I really am suited for that role… at least here.”

"Whichever it is?”

"I think all of us,” she turned to him fully. "are comfortable with our places,  whichever they are, even if some don’t know what they should do. I don’t know either. But being around you all, even one of you, I can feel it. Can you?”

"I…” he had to stop and think about it. "I suppose so…?”

She leaned on the shovel. "What did YOU hear?”

"Stories,” he responded immediately. "complete stories, with everyone in it.”

"Did you hear our own?”

"I don’t know. If I have, I can’t recognize it.”

"Try again!” she sprung up, her face suddenly more lively and eyes bright. "Try again… you’re the only one that hears it like _this_. Who should know if not you?"

"You’re right, I could try,” he nodded, and she nodded, gave him a thumbs up, and resumed throwing the snow away.

"I would’ve,” she announced. "but I’ve never been good with telling which is which.”

Fabius was surprised at all this sudden sharing from the otherwise close-mouthed woman.

"You’re one of the ones most excited over this.”

"Oh, I am. It’s the first time I can be myself and still belong in a group!”

For a while he mused if to ask the next question, then he did.

"But don’t you miss anyone? Even if you are that comfortable here.”

The effect was seen almost at once; her shoulders slumped in irritation and she rolled eyes, pursing lips.

"I’m asking because I don’t live with anyone myself,” he added. "not close, at least. All of my family is in a different city.”

"I find it odd,” she looked over at him. "that grown-ups would miss their parents.”

"Some are closer with them than the others… but I take it the answer’s a no.”

Gabrielle straightened and stood up in front of him defiantly.

"It is. So?”

Fabius raised his palms up to pacify her. "Nothing. I was just curious.”

"Just that?” "Just that,” he shrugged it off with a smile. "but the first one was to find out your role.”

"Ohh,” she raised eyebrows, then nodded. "I see. And did you?”

"No.” "Too bad!” she reached out and flicked his nose unexpectedly, still with only a slight curve of the mouth. "Try harder next time.”

He was so taken aback he sat open-mouthed for a moment, before she bid him to help her.

……………………….

 

The next shift – with a bit wetter and heavier snow, but considerably cleaner path – was with Peter, who had to be shown how to do it but then did work.

"Sorry for being this clumsy,” he whined after he put the shovel too deep in. "I've never done this before…”

"It-it’s fine,” Fabius was pulling it out with some difficulty. "plenty of time to practice… lots of snow… just don’t… break it.”

"I’ll try to. I’m really sorry.”

"It’s _alright_. Stop.”

"Sso- I won’t do it anymore. Jeez, you have to do this every winter?”

"The last couple of years, yeah. The shop can get covered halfway through if I don’t. Or if not, the path freezes over when it starts melting...”

"Halloween decorations, right?”

"Huh?" he looked up, then realized Peter was asking about the shop. "Oh, yes. Well, that's the season, but I also have clothes and gift objects and toys... and similar. And you're trying your hand at more than one thing, yeah?”

"Correct. I still don’t know what I do best…”

"Well, certainly not cleaning the paths.”

"Yes, I know I’m sometimes in the way. Been told so as well,” Peter shrugged, not seeming upset by it in the least. "even more so than someone with some hyperesthesia side-effect of... Maybe not going out often enough... No offense if it's an actual diagnosis, of course!”

The Storyteller rammed the shovel to the nearest pile and stared at him in shock.

"How do you…?! You can tell?”

"Fabius, I saw you listening to my _heartbeat_. That’s not normal hearing even if magically enhanced or something. Besides you get all irritable when there are sudden bright lights or someone pushes you… What? Did you think you were the only person that was attentive to others here?”

"I… well.”

Peter burst out into chuckles and hugged him with one arm around the neck.

"Okay, now you know there’s me too. Dig on!” He let go.

"Dig on too, Heart.”

Only after two more handfuls of snow did Peter stop and lift his head, wide-eyed.

"What did you just call me?”

,,Hea…” Fabius looked at him too. ,,I only realized it now. I mean, it was a blind shot, but... Of _course_!”

"How did you come to this...?”

"I don’t know!” He started to laugh in disbelief. "That came by itself… ” he then called up to the grey sky. "You could be the Heart! You could be the Heart and I think I _really_ could be the Storyteller!”

"Wait, wait, wait! How do you know that for sure?!”

"... I don't. It… occurred to me. Somehow. Tell me about what did you hear?”

Peter turned red. "That, I… I-I-I didn’t hear anything.”

"Don’t lie, all of us heard something, I asked. ALL of us. Do you remember what was it?”

"I do remember what it was!” he blurted out desperately, gripping his shoulders. "But that… I heard it… it doesn’t mean it’s me…”

The startled and somewhat embarrassed expression only served as further proof.

"Stokes,” Fabius stared him in the eye. "modesty aside, you’re one of the only one for that role here.” Peter only blinked a few times, then looked away.

"I… really don't want to be in this position.”

"In the spotlight? Nobody has to know! I won’t say anything, just…” he threw up hands. "Do whatever seems right, will you?”

The boy stepped in place for a moment.

"Well… it’s true that I did try to keep it peaceful here, and still do, I want us all to cooperate. But Heart…?”

"Do you have a different idea? By exclusion, that is.”

"Err… no, not really, no.”

"Then keep calm! I’m sure you’ll stand it. If not you, I don’t know who. For being the biggest pessimist you sure handled everything well.”

"Tips and tricks from my parents,” Peter scratched his head. "both for stage fright and homesickness…”

"Oh?” "They’re actors,” he explained. "the career still goes on, so I gather a lot… should I go on? Because I actually went to a theatre camp, and this one time it came really handy..."

…………………………………..

It was nearly the end of March when the ever-present snow started to melt, leaving huge puddles of water everywhere in the garden, roof and somewhere the cellar too. It dropped off everywhere except for the well at the end of the dungeon, which always seemed dry and exhausted. There was no need to go clean the way, but by that time almost everyone worked at least once with all the others, and most were relieved now.

Fabius needed a third coffee that morning, and when it was set down beside him among books he spoke.

"I don’t understand what happened.” It was muffled due to his nose being flat on the wooden surface hidden by both arms.

"What happened?” Alford asked, stretching across from him and the table comfortably.

"Everyone. _All of them_ … Those times we ended up outside, or anywhere alone, they started talking. It wasn’t all childhood, but also moments, or whatever they felt… Even those that don’t usually talk!” he leaned in on his elbows, supporting the sides of his head. "Why the hell me? How did I end up the hollow willow?”

"Do you complain?”

"No. But I don’t _understand_.”

He shrugged. "You’re trustworthy, and we all have been a little in the edge lately. It's good to talk to someone. Besides, you’re the Storyteller. It’s only natural everyone wants you to know them.”

"Yeah,” he nodded lazily. "everyone, but you. I didn’t hear a single thing from you when we dug.”

"Maybe I’m just that happy to be around you,” Alford grinned and leaned forward on his elbows too. The opposite male pulled back uncomfortably.

"...Fabius, I’m kidding. Drink that coffee, your head’s failing. Or maybe you need iron.”

When he picked his mug up with a sigh, Alford went on. "Well I can’t remember any childhood traumas. Father’s a businessman, mother’s a nurse, and I’m trying my hand in astronomy. I'm also an amateur psychologist.”

"Dude, you’re not on a job interview. Be a little more prosaic.”

"I could launch into purple prose if you really want me to, but I doubt you’d be any wiser.” Both laughed.

"Okay. There is one thing that does piss me off, and that’s the absence of good brains among my colleagues. Or rather, broader minds. And their… well, not that the scientific approach to the universe is incorrect, but sometimes I get the feeling they’re missing out on some aspects by not accepting there’s more to the order than randomly created objects floating.”

"And you think so?”

"Certainly. It affects our lives, now doesn’t it? ...And they still think fate has no place in the field. Even though there’s proof. Personally I’m really interested in how the planet movement affects the human psyche, mine too, and all of the life stories.”

,,’Kay, I have no opinion on astrology, so I don’t know what to tell you to this, but thank you.”

Fabius nodded still a bit groggy, but he gave a weak thumb up to show appreciation for the sudden enthusiasm.

"You asked.” Alford leaned back in the chair, tips of fingers pressed together. "By the way, who do you think the Villain is?”

"I have no idea. Learning new things only served to confuse me further. Ain’t I a failure sometimes?”

"I wouldn’t be able to admit to that. –Not even a guess?”

"Nothing. You?”

"No. Stuck on place again?”

"Well, I MAY have found out who the Heart is, but promised not to tell. Besides… there were enough people to keep calm while we couldn’t get out, so not that it helps any with the Dragon either.”

"Agreed. Have you seen Amanda ‘round this time? I swear, if I didn’t know it’s the hormones speaking, I’d be mortally offended at some of the things she said.”

"Look, as long as she doesn’t shoot you…”

………………

The last night there was a late argument over a opened window, because of which water leaked inside. A sizable pool was on the ground when it was found. After a few sentences the topic turned into anything but. On one side were shouts and the other stammering, then also shouts in incomplete sentences and accusations.

He only had to sit on the stairs on the second floor to hear properly and recognize Leyla and Timothy’s voices.

"You’re a incompetent little moron! You had one thing to do today! ONE!”

Leyla was confused, but by no means sounded like a withering flower. Rather, it was irritated. "I- I DID close-! I didn’t know… it should’ve been shut tighter!”

"That’s common sense, are you stupid or just lazy? You know nobody is going to clean this for us!!!”

"I’m not…” "Not what?!”

"Stop screaming at me! I  _don’t have to tell you anything, and I’ll -I'll put it back out myself!_ ”

"Really? I’ll love to see you try! But it'll evaporate by the time you get your shit together and stop stuttering!”

Leyla smoothly switched into very rapid, at times crude, and entirely fluent French.

By that time a few other heads poked out on the second floor, looking down and trying to catch a glimpse of what went on. Augusta shouted for them to be quieter, at what the young girl down stairs sent up a curse and continued her monologue to the astonished – and not quite understanding all of it – man.

"Well, that escalated quickly,” Gabrielle murmured, peeking from over the staircase down, then she turned to Fabius.

"What do you think? First lover’s quarrel or a last stroke of drama?”

"This was purely the last kick of drama, I think,” he responded, nodding appreciatively at Leyla’s rant and at the way the managed to push Timothy forward though he was well over twice her size, then throw a rag at his face.


	7. Romance

The month began with flair; a few jokes, more than one groan, and finally with an apprehensive silence at breakfast that was still more fitting for dramatic tension than what was beginning.

"Does anyone,” Timothy eyed the room suspiciously. "anyone at all like nasty April first jokes?”

"Define ‘nasty’,” Leyla winked a few times with a hidden grin.

"Toilett humor… scary pranks… that kind of stuff.”

Terence cleared his throat. "Don’t go into the dungeon…”

"What did you do to the dungeon?” Rita groaned with the tone of someone who was hoping for, but not expecting better.

"Nothing bad. Just… err… put a thing in there, near the exit-“

"TERENCE!!!” He winced when Augusta stormed in from behind him, half of one of her legs covered in something green and slimy.

"I nearly broke my leg because of you! _What did you do to that spot._ ”

"What spot…?” "YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.”

"Sorryyyyy…” he grinned in a goofy way.

"Well, that answers my question,” Timothy rolled his eyes. "Anyone else?”

"Doubtfully,” Leyla pat his back sympathetically.

"Anyway,” Augusta sighed and flipped out a paper from her pants pocket. "I found this. It’s for the Noble this time, whoever that is. He or she should, I quote; ‘keep watch on the alliances and the well.’ Which is not very detailed, if you want to know. Who knows what could it mean!”

"Metaphor?” Gabrielle suggested lazily.

"Whatever could ‘alliances’ mean in a Romance month?” Amanda sighed wearily.

"I’m starting to like April,” Timothy whistled, earning a death glare from the archer.

"And what do you hope to achieve?” Rita asked, crossing arms with a challenging smile.

"Nothing as of yet. It’s still the first week, now isn’t it.”

Tate set down his glass with a ambiguous pinkish drink with a thud.

"Which ones of you have partners?”

Terence, Amanda and Peter lifted hands.

"Well, that still leaves space for four couples. If I were you, I’d be careful.”

"And you don't count yourself in?" Leyla asked. It had no spite, only curiosity. Tate gave her a wry grin. 

"Let's just say I have limited options, and leave it at that."

"Why not do a fairy?"

It earned the small girl a coughing fit from him and uproarious laughter from the table.

…………………………………

Gentle poking woke him up with a start, and for a second he mused why is there a fairy waking him at noon before he recognized the face.

" …Jeanne?”

"Finally! Come out, you need to see something,” she was already pulling him up.

"What exactly?” he grumbled sleepily.

"The well in the dungeon, it’s different.”

"Could you at least let me dress?”

Jeanne stopped pulling, then looked him over as if she just realized what he wore.

"Oh,” she laughed sheepishly. "yes, sorry.”

By that time the underground path was no longer a secret to any of them, and was frequented as often as any hallway that was freely seen, and wasn’t as dark and damp.

"I swear, you’re like Balthazar at times. Dragging me out for various things… just don't randomly sit on my chest, please."

"Shush!” she looked over her shoulder, still latched into his sleeve "You really should see it. Wait, who's Balthazar?”

"My cat. And why me?” he snorted while she pulled aside the ivy at the entrance, brushing spider webs off her hair.

"That’s because you’re the closest thing to a leader we’ve got, and-“ a second after she was flying backwards with a scream, feet having slipped on something right behind the veil. He managed to catch her mid the – what would be hard – fall, and she ended up leaning backwards on him, trying to stand up.

"Are you okay?!”

Jeanne slowly leaned her head back to look into his face.

"That… that was the spot. That was Terence’s April Fool’s spot.”

"Right…” he was looking down at her from a rather interesting angle, and it was a little weird to see. It was the first time she did look her age, even if she seemed to be somewhat embarrassed by the fall as well.

"I… did wonder.”

She pulled her feet under her and stood up abruptly then, dusting off. Running a hand down her hair she signed over to the well in an awkward manner.

"Um… come.” "Right on. You know, I'd SWEAR I've seen this happen in a comic..."

He went over to look inside quickly. Jeanne pointed ahead, to the opening in the wall above the well. "Do you see it?”

"What the…”

The circle, previously all over with moss and dirt, barely visible, was now dripping with moisture. On impulse, he counted them. The stones around it seemed-

"There were twelve before,” Jeanne noted as if reading his mind. "now there’s nine. But they’re bigger.”

"That’s… well, not impossible, but _highly_ improbable!”

"You don’t say,” she crossed her arms, lifting chin high. "like everything that happened so far?”

Fabius turned to her. "You’ve got a point there. But still, what of this?”

"Three months, three stones away. I would bet the next will go at the end of April.”

"How did you come up with that?”

"Eh… I counted them right at the start, but forgot then. I saw them again today, and thought you should know.”

"Jeanne,” he pulled her side to him briefly and squeezed proudly. "you take this story forward.”

"I try,” she giggled, smacking his back.

……………………………………..

 

The stalls and their visitors did eventually leave, but only after much bought (everyone for a different price) and a heartfelt goodbye to familiar faces.

"You sure gave me some rough times, buddy,” Terence tapped the quilin’s neck, sniffling. "I’ll miss you.” The creature nudged him, then stepped away to the sprite that brought him in.

"I wish you truly good luck,” she nodded to them, lightly touching its side. "and that you may get home as soon as possible.”

"Thank you. We appreciate it very much,” he bowed head in response. "you have a good journey too…”

The Fey regarded him thoughtfully and with some pity.

"I would take you out,” she sighed then, green hair falling forward to her face. "I really would. I would show you out if I could.”

"It’s fine,” Terence shook it off with a sad smile. "we tried everything and one nymph would doubtfully get us out. On the bright side, we already have three months off our necks.”

"And on the dark side, we still have nine freakin’ months to go insane from each other,” Amanda added right after with a sour grin.

"Thank you dear, you’re a joy to live with!” Rita elbowed her.

"I’m trying to be realistic.”

"Pessimistic, frankly,” Timothy corrected her. "everyone’s sane enough to live through that.”

"You sure? I wouldn’t judge yet."

The quilin butted her in the back harshly, making her jump. When he turned to leave by unearthly, high steps with the sprite on his back, Leyla turned away and started to cry on the first shoulder she found.

"Admittingly,” a sigh came from the side. "seeing the only transport available disappearing at night in the distance is kind of depressing.”

"People,” Terence rubbed his forehead. "please, just _shut up_.”

……………………………..

 

Having good hearing was mostly a good thing to have when the things heard got clearer and more understandable, but it still did nothing for recognizing their story – even with knowing a few roles, and guessing the rest, he had too little information to know, which parts belonged to whom, and the amount of gibberish otherwise did nothing to help.

"I’d need color. Gooood, I miss having a hairdresser around!”

"Wait, color? I thought that was your natural color…”

"Oh? With my complexion, you thought I had light hair? Riiitaaa.”

Fabius tried to stick his head under two pillows, but it didn’t help. As much as it was surprising to hear Augusta complain about not having anyone to care for her hair and Rita hosting everyone in her room, it wasn’t that the female voices were loud - but thet were very audible when most of the male rooms were empty.

"This is why I do my hair myself,” Amanda said condescendingly. "less fuss about it.”

"It looks that way too right now,” Rita answered, which was followed by a scream and soft thuds sounding like pillows hitting a single head.

"Oww! I was joking, I was joking! You hair looks fine!”

"I’d say! Jeeze, you sure are a strain on one’s nerves sometimes.”

A softer, colder voice rang: "You drop so much information in conversations and you don’t even realize it.”

"Ahh, Winter spoke up,” Rita snorted. "and does talking about hair count as valuable spy information? –speaking of which, mine needs to be cut.”

"Not hair,” Gabrielle said, sounding somewhat amused. "but off-hand comments. I'm not Rebecca, by the way, thank you very much."

"I think I know what you meant,” Jeanne piped up like a question.

"Off-hand comments… do you watch every word?”

"Matter of fact. I try to. Leyla?”

"Que?” "You haven’t yet told us of any romance tropes.”

"Oh! But those are very easy to see. Anything can be a romance trope if it’s connected to relation…ships?”

"Yes. Like shipping.”

"Oh. OH! Okay. You’ll find out by yourselves.”

"Have you seen any so far?” Augusta drawled.

"Umm… yes, but I don’t know what are they called. I’ll point them out to you next time!”

"I’m all for it. Judging by how bored we all seem to get here by this time, not just me,  _things_ will happen,” Rita suggested mysteriously, snickering.

" 'Things’ you say? Like you and…? I’m counting!” Amanda said cheerfully.

"What d'you mean 'counting'?! I did not mean it like THAT!”

Silence met her.

"Okay, I did, but just… _abstract concept_ , you know? I don’t have anyone in mind."

"It’s mind blowing that the first time there is female only company in one room the topic turned into something as trivial as sex,” Augusta said, but didn’t sound surprised. "are we ladies or what?”

"It’s the circle of life,” Leyla said matter-of-factly, after which very unladylike snorts, grunts and laughter followed. At that Fabius pulled his head out from under the pillow and sat up on his own bed. _Can’t avoid it, might as well listen properly_.

"Ladies are allowed to speak of whatever,” Rita proclaimed. "but only when in other ladies' company.”

"Wow, that was deep,” Amanda whistled. "also, I don’t believe you didn’t have anyone in mind. You’re wiggling suspiciously.”

"Alright, you found me out, you sly snake.”

 " ’Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it’ much, Amanda?” Gabrielle chuckled.

"Common sense. Well?”

"What’s said in miss Slater’s  room stays in miss Slater’s room,” Jeanne added, sounding like grinning. "also, we have nobody else to talk to."

"That’s _lady Slater_ to you!” Rita said to her theatrically.

"Or lady Airehart,” Leyla added innocently.

"You did nooot! That’s the most cliché sentence that exists!”

"That’s why I said it. Did I say the wrong name?”

"Still lady Slater, the man’s name is irrelevant.”

"I guessed right, didn’t I.”

" _Yes you did, damnit!_ ” Again laughter rang through the room, apart from one somewhat offended voice: "No need to shout on me…!”

"Do elaborate,” Gabrielle sounded interested.

"Fine, provided you do too.”

"Agreed, provided we switch to a different topic after those… confessions.”

"Settle back girls, this’ll be entertaining!” Amanda proclaimed loudly. At that point Fabius rapidly searched around for a paper and pen – he still heard them even if Rita lowered her voice by two thirds. She launched into very explicit descriptions of what she saw of the particular male before, which parts did she like, and what were her future plans with him or wishes of what to do.

Only a stunned gasp, which came from Leyla, came as a answer. After nothing was heard for a while.

"Well,” Amanda finally said. "you sure ain’t subtle.”

"Not in my dictionary,” Rita replied cheerfully.

"It’s the opposite of your style of speech,” Augusta explained without a trace of humor.

"It was like from a Sylvia Day novel,”  Leyla said in awe.

"I didn’t need to hear half of it!” Jeanne snorted.

"Sue me,” Rita said smugly. "it’s all true.”

"I’m not very keen on speaking after this,” Gabrielle sounded reluctant.

"Don’t worry,” Leyl chuckled. "anything you say you want to do to Alford won’t top THAT monologue. Anything at all.”

"I- wait… how did you know…?”

Again laughter went out through the door.

"Did I guess right again?!” Leyla squeaked with delight. "I'm good!”

"She guessed this first thing in the morning,” Augusta said. "but having read so many romance novels, it was inevitable.”

Gabrielle only stuttered out something too quiet to be comprehensible, followed by a small creak.

"Tell us about it,” Rita said in a conspiratory loud whisper.

"I’m not sure…” "Tell uuuus.”

"But really, it’s nothing interesting…”

"Tell uuuus. Don't be a chicken!”

Leyla cracked up and muffled it with something, likely a pillow.

"I won’t tell him anything,” Augusta stated.

"Me neither. Go ahead, don’t worry.”  
"Well, it… initially it was only this closeness, like we’ve met before.”

"Kindred souls,” Leyla said promptly.

"Yes, that might be right… although noticing him I admit I do find him attractive too.”

"Oh, come on!” "I’m not going into as much detail as you have! _That was outright porn_!”

"Aww.” "Thank God,” Jeanne sighed in relief.

"...Not even soft?”

"RITA!!!”

"Let her breathe, LADY Slater. Truthfully, getting Gabrielle to admit even that bit took three shots.”

"Augusta… we have alcohol lying around the castle?”

"No. But as a chemist I can ask for supplies, can’t I?”

"You sneaky dog!” Amanda burst into chuckles.

"It would be interesting to get him drunk in that case,” Rita said lightly. "Truth in wine, and all that. Plus, I brought some interesting things in the market…”

"I call this to be our next assignment,” Amanda said seriously.

"Well… if you really want to,” Gabrielle said quietly. It seemed she was a little embarrassed.

"Okay, this sleepover is worth it,” Leyla squealed again.

 _That it is_. Fabius took note to decide whose side to be on next time someone mixed a drink.


End file.
